Back to the Woods

by George V. Hobart

  CHAPTER VII.

  JOHN HENRYS HAPPY HOME.

  Early the next morning I broke camp and took the trail to town,determined never to come back alive unless Bunch agreed to sell theplantation to Uncle Peter.

  The old gentleman had crowded his check for $20,000 into mytrembling hands the night before with instructions to deposit it inmy bank, and at my convenience I was to let him have the deed tothe place.

  Well, if Bunch should refuse to play ball I could send the checkback to Uncle Peter, and a telegram to Clara J., telling her that Iwas back in the flat, laid up with a spavined fetlock or something.

  Uncle Peter was out in the garden planting puree of split peas orsome other spring vegetable when I started for the train, so allthe Recording Angel had to put down against me was the new batch ofOchiltrees I told Clara J.

  I soon located Bunch, and to my surprise found him more inclined tojosh than to jolt.

  Bunch Jefferson--All to the Good and Two to Carry.]

  "Ah! my friend from the bush!" he exclaimed; "are you in town tobuy imitation coal, or is it to get a derrick and hoist your homeaffairs away from my property? Why don't you take a tumble, John,and let go?"

  "Bunch," I said, "believe me, this is the crudest game offreeze-out I ever sat in. My throat is sore from singing, 'Father,dear father, come home with me now!' and every move I make nets mea new ornamentation on my neck. Why didn't I tell the good wifethat the ponies put the crimp in my pocketbook instead of crawlinginto this chasm of prevarication and trouble?"

  "You can search me!" Bunch answered, thoughtfully.

  "And that phony wire you sent me yesterday almost gave me aplexus," I said bitterly. "Why did you frame up one of thosewhen-we-were-twenty-one dispatches from the front? It sounded likea love song from Willie Hayface of Cohoes, after his first day onBroadway. Didn't you know that my wife was liable to open thatqueer fellow and put me on the toasting fork?"

  Bunch blinked his eyes solemnly, but when I told him all about thetrouble his telegram had caused he simply rose up on his hind legsand laughed me to a sit down.

  "Well," he gasped after a long fit of cackling; "sister did intendgoing out to Jiggersville and the only way I could stop her was tosuddenly discover that her health wasn't any too good, so I chasedher off to Virginia Hot Springs for a couple of weeks."

  After all, Bunch had his redeeming qualities.

  "I sent you that wire before I took sister's temperature," Bunchexplained, "and I quite forgot to send another which would put acopper on the queens."

  Once more he laughed uproariously and chortled between theoutbursts, "Now--ha, ha, ha!--I'm even for--ha, ha, ha!--for thatshoot the chute I did in your--ha, ha, ha--in your cellar--oh! ha,ha, ha, ha!"

  "Oh, quit your kidding!" I begged, and then, suddenly, "Say, Bunch,will you sell the old homestead?"

  Bunch stopped laughing and looked me over from head to foot. "Isthis on the level or simply another low tackle?"

  "It's the goods," I answered: "I simply can't frighten, coax,scare, drive or push my home companions away from your property, soI'd like to buy it if you're game to cut the cards?"

  "Been playing the lottery?" he snickered.

  "No, but I have the Pierponts, all right, all right," I replied;"will you put $14,000 in your kick and pass me over the baronialestate?"

  "Fourteen thousand!" Bunch repeated slowly. "Sure, I will. If youcan Morgan that amount I'll make good with the necessary documents,and then you and your family troubles may sit around on fly paperin Jiggersville for the rest of your natural lives for all I care."

  I explained to Bunch that I wanted the deed made out in the name ofPeter Grant for the reason that Uncle Peter was a bigger farmerthan I, and in short order the preliminary arrangements werecompleted to the satisfaction and relief of both parties concerned.

  That evening I went back to Jiggersville feeling as light as a pinfeather on a young duck.

  Uncle Peter could have the property; Bunch could buy his sisteranother castle, and I was ahead of the game just $6,000, more thanenough to square me for all the green paper I had torn up at thetrack.

  Of course, it did look as though Uncle Peter had been whipsawed,but when I considered the bundles the old gentleman had stored awayin the vaults, and when I remembered his eagerness to cough, Isimply couldn't produce one pang of conscience.

  Two days later Bunch had a certified check for $14,000 and UnclePeter was the happy owner of the country estate.

  "We will live with you and Aunt Martha a little while," I said tohim; "but if you have no objection I'd like to buy a small lot downnear the brook from you and build a bit of a cage there forourselves."

  Uncle Peter chuckled affirmatively, but seemed unwilling tocontinue the subject further. "Isn't it glorious out here," hesmiled. "Pure air, fresh from the bakery of Heaven! I haveyounged myself ten years since we came out here. Yesterday I fellin a bear trap which Tacks had dug and carefully concealed withbrush and leaves. It took me four hours to get out because I'mrather stout, but the exercise surely did me good."

  Can you beat him?

  A week later the second anniversary of our wedding would rollaround, and although Clara J. was a trifle hard to win over, Ifinally coaxed her to let me have Bunch out to spend a few hourswith us on that occasion.

  At the appointed hour Bunch arrived and Clara J. greeted him withevery word of that telegram darting forth darkly from her eyes.

  "Mrs. John," said Bunch, "I'm simply delighted to know you. I'veoften heard your husband speak well of you."

  She had to smile in spite of herself.

  "Mrs. John," Bunch went on, with splendid assurance; "you should beproud of this matinee idol husband of yours, for, to tell you thetruth, he's all the goods--he certainly is."

  Clara J. looked somewhat embarrassed, and as for me, I was away outto sea in an open boat. I hadn't the faintest idea what Bunch wasdriving at.

  "You surely have a wonderful influence over him," the lad with theblarney continued. "A week or so ago I threw some bait at him justto test him and he didn't even nibble. You know, in the old daysJohn and I often trotted in double harness to the track--bad placefor young men--sure!"

  Bunch surveyed the property with a quick glance and said, "Yes, Isent John a telegram. 'The two queens will be out this afternoon,'I wired, meaning two horses that simply couldn't lose. 'They aregood girls, so treat them white,' I told him, meaning that heshould put up his roll on them and win a hatfull; but, Mrs. John, Inever touched him. He simply ignored my telegram and sat around inthe hammock all day, reading a novel, I suppose. I apologize toyou, Mrs. John, for trying to drag him away from the path ofrectitude, but, believe me, I didn't know when I sent the messagethat he had promised you to give the ponies the long farewell!"

  Clara J. laughed with happiness, all her doubts dispersed, andsaid, "Oh, don't mention it, Mr. Bunch! I'm simply delighted towelcome you to our new home. You have never been out here before,have you?"

  Bunch glanced at me, then through the open front door in thedirection of the scene of his downfall, and said, hesitatingly,"Never before, thank you, kindly!"

  Good old Bunch. He had squared me with my wife and the world--oh,well, some day, perhaps, I'd get a chance to even up.

  "John," he said, a few minutes later, when we took a short strollaround the place. "Now that I've started in to tell the wholetruth I musn't skip a paragraph. This is a pleasant bit ofproperty, but the solemn fact remains that I put the boots to you.I gave you the gaff for $6,000, old friend, and it breaks my heartto tell you that I'm not sorry. Bunch for Number One, always!"

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "This farm only cost me $8,000," he said, giving me the pityinggrin.

  "It cost me $14,000 and I sold it for $20,000," I said, slowly.

  We stopped and shook hands.

  "Who's the come-on?" he asked, presently.

  "Uncle Peter," I answered, "but the old boy has so much he has tokick a lot o
f it out of the house every once in a while, so it'sall right."

  After dinner we were all sitting on the piazza listening to atreatise from Uncle Peter on the subject of the growth and propercare of wheat cakes, or asparagus, I forget which, when suddenlythe cadaverous form of the Sherlock Holmes of Jiggersville appearedbefore us.

  "Evenin' all!" bowed Harmony Diggs, clinging tightly to a bundlewhich he held under his arm.

  "Find that robber yet?" inquired Bunch, winking at me.

  "That's just what I dropped around for to tell you, thinkin' maybeyou'd be kinder interested in knowin' the facts in the case,"Harmony went on, carefully placing the precious bundle on the steps.

  "I got a clue from this here gent," he said, pointing a bony fingerat Bunch, "and I ups and chases that there maleyfactor for fourmiles, well knowin' that the cause of justice would suffer and thereward of fifty dollars be nil and voidless if the critter gotaway. But I got him, by crickey, I got him!"

  He looked from one to the other, seeking a sign of applause, andBunch said, "Where did you catch him?"

  "About four miles yonder," Diggs explained, indefinitely. "It wasa fierce fight while it lasted, but they ain't no maleyfactorlivin' can escape the clutches of these here hands oncet theyentwines him. I pulled the dem cuss out of his clothes!"

  With this thrilling announcement he opened the bundle and proudlydisplayed the burglar harness which Bunch had worn on thatmemorable night.

  "And the burglar himself?" Bunch questioned.

  Diggs raised his head slowly, and with theatrical effect answered,"I give the cussed scoun'rel the doggonest drubbin' a mortalmaleyfactor ever got and let him go. That was nearly two weeksago, and he ain't showed up since, dag him!"

  "You win, Mr. Ananias!" said Bunch, handing Diggs a ten dollarbill, as he whispered to me, "That story is worth the money."

  "What's that for?" inquired Diggs, somewhat taken aback.

  "That's my contribution to the reward for the robber," Bunch toldhim.

  "Well," spluttered Diggs; "it don't seem zactly right, seein' ashow I on'y pulled the cuss out of his clothes and then let him gowith a lambastin'."

  "The ten-spot is for the clothes you pulled him out of," Bunchsaid, picking up the garments and handing them to me. "Keep them,John, as a souvenir of your first burglar--and true friend, Bunch!"

  I took them reverently, and said, "For your sake, Bunch, they'll behanded down from generation to generation."

  Clara J. blushed and said, "Oh, John!" and I thought Uncle Peterwould chuckle himself into a delirium.

  "Good-night, Mr. Ananias!" Bunch called, as Diggs made a farewellbow and turned to go.

  "Good-night, one and all," replied Diggs, then a thought struck himand he turned with, "Say, who's this here Mr. Annienias? Seemslike the name's familiar, but it ain't mine."

  "Mr. Ananias is the first detective mentioned in history," Bunchexplained, and Mr. Diggs beamed over us all.

  "Wait a moment, Mr. Officer," Aunt Martha piped in; "have a drop ofrefreshment before you go. Tacks, run in and pour Mr. Officer adrink from that bottle on the sideboard!"

  Diggs stood there swallowing his palate in delightful anticipationuntil Tacks handed him a brimming glass from which the bravethief-taker took one eager mouthful, whereupon he emitted a shriekof terror that could be heard for miles.

  "Water! water! quick! I'm a'burnin' up!" cried the astonishedDiggs.

  Uncle Peter in his eagerness to quench the flames poured half apitcher full of ice water down the back of Diggs' neck.

  "It ain't there, it's down my throat!" yelled the unfortunateHarmony, whereupon Uncle Peter poured the rest of the ice waterover the constable's head.

  When, finally, the old fellow was revived he faintly declined anymore refreshment, and with a sad "good-night," faded away in thetwilight.

  "Gee!" exclaimed Tacks, as he watched the retreating form, "I'mafraid I upset some tobascum sauce in that glass by mistake."

  Presently, Bunch went off to the depot to take a train back to thecity, and for some little time we sat in silence on the piazza.

  "Grand, isn't it?" Uncle Peter said, breaking the spell. "Couldn'tbe any nicer, now, could it?" Then he went over and stood nearClara J.

  "Little woman," he said; "ever since we first talked of moving outhere I noticed how worried John was."

  "So did I," she answered, taking my hand in hers.

  "A day or two ago I found out what the trouble was," the oldgentleman continued; "this property was too heavy a load for ayoung man to carry, especially when he's just married, so I boughtit from him!"

  Before Clara J. could express a word Uncle Peter put his arm aroundAunt Martha's waist and continued, "Aunt Martha and I talked it allover last night and in celebration of your second anniversary wewant you to accept this little present," and with this he placed adocument in Clara J.'s hands.

  "It's the deed to the property," Aunt Martha said, "all for you,Clara J., but if you don't mind, we'd like to live here!"

  "Yes," said Uncle Peter; "that garden certainly needs someone tolook after it!"

  Clara J. was crying softly and hugging Aunt Martha,

  My own eyes were damp and I yearned to have somebody run the lawnmower over me.

  "I'll race you down to the gate and back," I suggested.

  "You're on," laughed Uncle Peter; "I believe I do need a littleexercise!"