Si Klegg, Book 4

by John McElroy

  CHAPTER XIII. MANY HAPPY EVENTS

  HOURS THAT WERE ALL-TOO-FEW AND ALL-TOO-SHORT.

  THE girls heard their mother's happy scream and rushed out, dish towelsin hand. They at once realized what had happened, piped up their joyousaltos, and precipitated themselves upon Si. The good old Deacon cametrotting down the walk, fidgeting with his spectacles, but so envelopedwas his son with skirts and women's arms and happy, teary faces that hecould not get within arm's length of him. So he turned to Shorty:

  "Great day, Shorty, but I'm glad to see you! Come right up on the stepsand set down. How'd you happen to come home. Either of you sick orwounded?"

  "Nope," answered Shorty sententiously. "Both sound as nuts and healthyas mules."

  "Well, come right up on the porch and set down. You must be awful tired.Le'me carry your gun and things for you."

  He took hold of the gun with such a desire to do something that Shortywas fain to yield it, saying:

  "Deacon, you are the first man in about a million betwixt here and theTennessee River that I'd let tech that gun. I don't know now of anotherman in the United States that I'd trust it with. That 'ere gun is loadedplum full of other folks's money."

  "Goodness, is that so?" said the Deacon, handling the musket withincreased respect. "I've heard o' a bar'l o' money, but never supposedthat it was a gun bar'l."

  "And more'n that," continued Shorty, "there's a full-grown cartridgebelow that might shoot a war widow's new dress and shoes for thechildren off into the moon."

  "Goodness gracious!" ejaculated the Deacon, holding out the gun as hedid Si the first time that interesting infant was placed in his hands,"handlin' other people's money's always ticklish business, but this's aleetle the ticklishest I ever heard of."

  "That's what bin wearin' me down to the bone," responded Shorty soberly,and as they reached the porch he explained the situation to the Deacon,who took the gun in the house, and laid it carefully on a bed in the"spare room."

  "Girls, you're smotherin' me! Let up, won't you? Mandy, you dabbed thatwet dishcloth right in my eye then. Maria, I can't talk or even breathewith your arm over my windpipe. You, dear mother, I'll pick you up andcarry you into the house, if you'll let me," Si was trying to say. "Ican't answer all your questions at once, 'specially when you're shuttin'off my breath an' dinnin' my ears till I can't hear myself think."

  "Le's carry your things up, Si," said Maria, after Si had gotten themcalmed down a little. "You must be awful tired."

  Si saw that this would be the best way to keep the girls off, whilehe devoted his attention to his mother. He handed his gun and belt toMaria, who marched on ahead, triumphantly waving her dish-towel asa gonfalon of victory, while she cheered for the Union in her sweetcontralto. Mandy took possession of his blanket roll and haversack,while Si almost carried his tearful mother on to the porch. There herhousewifely instinct at once asserted it self.

  "I know you and your friend there must jest be starvin'," she said,gathering herself up. "I never knowed when you wasn't, if you'd bin anhour from the table."

  "Shorty's worse'n me," said Si with a grin. "But I haven't interducedhim yit. Mother, girls, this is Shorty, my pardner, and the best pardnera feller ever had."

  "Glad to know you, Mr. Shorty," said they, shaking his hand. "We'veheard so much of you that we feel that we've knowed you all along."

  "Drop the Mister, then," said Shorty. "I'm plain Shorty to everybodyuntil I'm out o' the army. I've heard so much of you that I feel, too,that I've bin acquainted with you all my life."

  "Girls," commanded the mother, "come on and let's git the boys somethingto eat."

  "No, mother," pleaded Si, holding fast to her hand. "Let the girls doit. I want you to sit here and talk to me."

  "No, Si," answered the mother, kissing him again, and releasing herhand, "I must do it myself. I must cook your supper for you. The girlswon't do it half well enough."

  She hustled away to the kitchen, and Si and Shorty explained to theDeacon the circumstances of their visit, and that they must leave bythe next train going east, in order to keep their promise to Lieut.Bowersox. The Deacon immediately started Abraham Lincoln and the boyon saddle horses to bring in the neighbors to see the boys, and get themoney that had been sent them. They went into an inner room, carefullyblinded the windows, and began to draw out the money from variouspockets, cartridge-boxes, and other receptacles about their persons.

  All drew a long breath of relief when, counting that in Shorty's gun,every dollar was found to be safe.

  "But how in time you're ever goin' to git that money out o' that gunbeats me," said the Deacon, picking up the musket, and gazing dubiouslyinto the muzzle. "It was a mighty smart thing to do down at the front,but what are you going to do now, when you want to give the money to thepeople it belongs to?"

  "It certainly don't seem as smart as it did that night on the banks o'the Tennessee," Shorty admitted as he fixed his bullet screw on theend of his rammer, "but I'm goin' to trust to my own smartness and theProvidence that provides for war widows and orphans to git out everydollar in good shape for them it was intended for."

  The bullet-screw brought out the first "wad" easily and all right.

  THE FIRST WAD CAME OUT EASILY AND ALL RIGHT. 165]

  "Well, Providence is lookin' out for Jim Irvin's wife and childrenall right," said Shorty, as they smoothed out the bills and found themintact.

  The next attempt was equally successful, and as Shorty unrolled thebills he remarked:

  "Providence is again overlookin'. There's Jim Beardslee's $50 for hiswidowed mother."

  "And she needs it, poor woman," said the Deacon. "I've seen that shehad all the meat and wood she's needed since Jim enlisted, and DeaconFlagler keeps her in flour."

  The next offered more difficulty. The rammings on those above hadcompacted it pretty solidly. The bullet screw cut off bits of it, andwhen finally it was gotten out the $10 bill was in pieces.

  "That's Alf Ellerby's gift to his lame sister," said Shorty, as heruefully surveyed the fragments. "I'm afraid Providence wasn't mindin'just then, but I'll give her a good bill out o' my own pocket."

  "No, you needn't," said Maria, who had slipped in, fork in hand, topinch Si, kiss him, and ask him a question which she did not want Mandyto hear; "I kin paste that all together with white of egg so's it'lllook as good as ever. I done that with a bill that Towser snatched outo' my hand and chawed before I could git it away from him. The storekeeper took it and said it was just as good as any. Sophy Ellerby 'drather have it that way than a new bill, so long's it comes direct fromAlf."

  Again Shorty sent down the bullet screw, and again there was moretearing off of bits, and finally a mangled $20 bill was dragged forthand laid aside for Mandy to repair. "Ike Englehardt sent that to hismother to help take his sister through the Normal School, so's she kinbecome a teacher. She'll git that all right. But I've broken my bulletscrew in that wrastle. It snapped clean off, and I've got the worstjob of all now to get out $100 in two 50's that Abe Trelawney sent hismother to meet that mortgage on her little house. Abe's bin savin' it upfor months, and I was more anxious about it than any other, and so I putit down first. Si, let me have your bullet-screw."

  "Hain't got none. Lost mine weeks ago, while we was on the Tullahomymarch."

  "Great Jehosephat! what am I goin' to do?" groaned Shorty, the sweatstarting out on his fore head. "Now's the time for Providence to helpout, if He's goin' to. I'm at the end o' my string."

  "Supper's ready, boys; come on in," announced the sweet, motherly voiceof Mrs. Klegg. She seconded her invitation with her arm around Si and akiss on his cheek. "Father, bring Shorty, unless he'd rather walk withthe girls."

  Shorty was altogether too bashful to take advantage of the directhint. Si's lively sisters filled him with a nervous dread of his socialshortcomings. He grew very red in the face, hung back from them, andcaught hold of the Deacon's arm.

  "Go slow with him, girls," whispered the Deacon to his daughters, afterthey wer
e seated at the table. "He's a mighty good boy, but he ain'tused to girls."

  "He's rather good looking, if he does act sheepish," returned Mandy.

  "Well, he ain't a mite sheepish when there's serious business on hand,"returned the father. "And next to ourselves, he's the best friend yourbrother has."

  It had been many years since the wandering, rough-living Shorty had satdown to such an inviting, well-ordered table. Probably he never had.No people in the whole world live better than the prosperous Indianafarmers, and Mrs. Klegg was known far and wide for her housewifelytalents. The snowy table linen, the spotless dishes, thetastefully-prepared food would have done credit to a royal banquet.Hungry as he was, the abashed Shorty fidgeted in his chair, and watchedSi begin before he ventured to make an attack. The mother and girls weretoo busy plying Si with questions and anticipating his wants to noticeShorty's embarrassment.

  Si was making a heroic effort to eat everything in sight, to properlyappreciate all the toothsome things that loving hands were pressing uponhim, and to answer the myriad of questions that were showered upon him,and to get in a few questions of his own at the same time. He just foundtime to ask Shorty:

  "Say, this is great this 's like livin', ain't it?"

  And Shorty replied with deep feeling: "Just out o' sight. How in theworld'd you ever come to enlist and leave all this?"

  The neighbors began gathering in fathers, mothers and sisters of membersof Co. Q, all full of eager questions as to their kindred, and thisrelieved Shorty, for he could tell them quite as well as Si.

  The supper ended, the problem of the money in the gun again loomed up.Everyone had an opinion as to how to extricate the valuable charge.The women, of course, suggested hair-pins, but these were tried withoutsuccess. A gimlet taken from its handle and secured to the ramrod,refused to take hold.

  Somebody suggested shooting the gun across a pond of water, and gettingthe money that way, but it was decided that the force of the Springfieldseemed too great for any body of water in the neighborhood. Then JabeClemmons, the "speculative" genius of the neighborhood, spoke up:

  "Gentlemen, I've an idee. Deacon, how much is in that small haystack ofyour'n?"

  "'Bout 10 tons," answered the Deacon.

  "Jest about. Well, I'll pay you the regular market price for it, andgive $100 to Miss Trelawney. Now, let this gentleman stand 50 feet fromit and shoot his gun at it. He mustn't tell none of us where he aims at.I'll sell you, gentlemen, that hay in 40 quarter-ton lots, commencing atthe top, each man to pay $2 besides the regular price for a quarter tono' hay, an' we'll draw numbers as to our turns in takin' the fodder."

  "Looks somethin' like gamblin'," demurred the Deacon.

  "No more'n church lotteries," answered Jabe, "since it's for a goodpurpose. Now, gentlemen, who wants to buy a quarter ton of DeaconKlegg's first-class hay?"

  At once he had replies enough to take the whole stack, but while he waswriting down the names Deacon Klegg had another idea.

  "I can't quite git my mind reconciled to gamblin', even for a goodpurpose," he said. "And I ain't sure about how the two 50's 'll strikethe haystack. It'd be a sin if they were destroyed, as they are likelyto be. I've another idee. My well there is 25 foot deep. Let's take thebucket out, and let Shorty shoot his gun straight down into the well.I believe the money'll come out all right. If it don't I'll make it upmyself, rather than be a party to a gamble."

  "May blow the bottom o' your old well out," muttered Jabe Clemmons, whodearly loved anything in the shape of a game of hazard.

  "I'll resk that," said the Deacon. "I kin dig an other well, ifnecessary."

  The Deacon's proposal was carried. Shorty, holding the butt of his guncarefully upright, fired down into the well. A boy was lowered in thebucket, and soon announced by a joyful cry that he had gotten the bills.Upon being brought up and examined they were found to be uninjured, except by a slight singeing at the edges.

  "Providence's agin managin' things," murmured Shorty gratefully; "butthe Deacon's gumption helped out."

  All the money for those not present to receive it in person was turnedover to the Deacon, and then for the first time the boys felt relievedof a great responsibility.

  "There are two trains goin' east," said the Deacon, in response totheir inquiries as to the facilities for returning. "The through expresspasses here at 3:15, and it'll git you to Jeffersonville early in themorning. The accommodation passes about day break, and it'll git youthere in the evenin', if it makes connections, which it often doesn't."

  "We must go on the through express," said Si firmly. There was a loudoutcry by the mother and sisters, but the father recognized the demandsof military discipline.

  Si began to fidget to get away from the crowd of eager inquirers, whichMandy noticing, she found opportunity to whisper:

  "Don't fret. She'll be here presently."

  Si's face burned. He had thought his secret well-kept, but here hissisters read his thoughts like an open book. He had wanted to go toAnnabel, and have a few golden minutes alone with her. Just what forjust what he would say or do he did not in the least know he could notimagine. Only he felt that in some way the main interest of his lifedepended on seeing her somewhere remote from curious eyes and listeningears. He wanted to go to her, not to have her come to him, and meet himin such a throng as was gathered at his home.

  While these thoughts were coursing through his mind he heard Maria call:

  "Si, come here into my room. I want to show you the purtiest thing youever saw."

  While Mandy was a most correct young woman, she could not withstandgiving a significant wink to those around, to which they responded withknowing smiles. These, fortunately, Si did not see. He arose at once,the people made way, and he was led by Maria to her room. She opened thedoor and said:

  "There, now, kiss me for a loving sister."

  It was a fervent kiss that Si rewarded her with, for, there, rising fromher chair as the door opened, dressed in her best, and her face wreathedwith smiles and blushes, stood Annabel.

  "Since you are so mean about goin' away so soon, you can only have 10minutes together; make the most of it," laughed Maria, and she scuddedback to the sitting-room.

  Si stood for an instant dazed. How beautiful she was far more so thanhis recollections had painted her. She had blossomed out from theschool-girl into the mature woman, and every feature ripened. Fair ashis home seemed in contrast with the country he had left, she seemedstill fairer in contrast with any woman he had ever seen. Where were thethousand things that, brooding by the campfire and lying in his tent, hethought over to say to her when they met? All forgotten or dismissed asinappropriate. He simply stood and gazed at her. She re covered herselffirst, and said teasingly:

  "Well, how do you do? Ain't you going to speak? Ain't you glad to seeme?"

  Si could only step forward and take her hand, and murmur:

  'ANNABEL, HOW PURTY YOU LOOK.' 173]

  "Annabel, how purty you look. How you've growed, and all purtier. I'mawfully glad to see you. That's what I most wanted to come home for."

  Then his face burned with new blushes to think how much he had said.They sat down, he still holding her hand, with his eyes fixed upon herface. Somehow, in the mysterious telegraphy of first love, they so fullyunderstood one another that words were unnecessary.

  Speechless, but fuller of happiness than they ever dreamed was possiblein the world, they sat with clasped hands until Maria came back, callingout:

  "Time's up. The folks say that they can't let Annabel have you anylonger. Come into the sitting-room, both of you. Come along, Si. Comealong, Annabel."

  Si rose obediently, but Annabel declined to go. She did not say why,but Maria, with a woman's instincts, knew that she wanted to be alone tothink it all over. Maria therefore hurried back.

  "Good-by, Annabel," he said, pressing her hand again. "I'll write to youfirst thing when I git back."

  "Good-by, Si. God keep you for me, safe through battles and dangers."

>   She turned away to hide her bursting tears.

  It was astonishing how quick midnight came. When the clock striking 12smote the ears of the family, nobody had said, heard or asked one titheof what he or she was burning eager to, yet the parting was but a littlemore than two brief hours away.

  With a heart heavier even than when she parted from her boy for thefirst time, Mrs. Klegg arose, and sought to distract her thoughtsby collecting as big a package as they could carry of the choicesteatables. How often she stopped to cry softly into her apron noteven the girls knew, for she was resolved to keep up a brave front,especially before Si, and would carefully wash all traces of tears fromher face, and clear the sobs from her throat before re-entering the roomwhere he was.

  Shorty had at once been taken to the hearts of everyone, and all theolder men urged him to "come back here as soon as the war's over, marrya nice girl, and settle down among us."

  Si received many compliments upon his development into such a fine,stalwart man.

  One after another said:

  "Si, what a fine, big man you've growed into. I declare, you're a creditto your father and mother and the settlement. We all expect you to comeback a Captain or a Colonel, and we'll run you for Sheriff or CountyCommissioner, or something as big."

  "O, anything but Treasurer," Si would laughingly reply. "I've had enoughhandling other folks' money to last me my life."

  Presently Abraham Lincoln brought the spring wagon around. Even inthe moonlight Si could see that freedom and the Deacon's tuition haddeveloped the ex-slave into a much better man than the wretched runawaywhom his father had protected. He wanted to know more of him, but therewere too many demands upon his attention. They all mounted into thewagon, the bundles were piled in, one last embrace from his mother, andthey drove away, reaching the station just in time to catch the train.As he kissed Maria good-by she shoved a letter into his hand, saying:

  "This is from Annabel. Read it after you git on."

  As the train whirled away Si made an excuse to go away from Shorty, andstanding up under the lamp in the next car he read on a tear-stainedsheet:

  "Deer Si: I wanted so much to tel you, but the words wooddent come to my lips, that Ime yours til deth, no matter what happens, and Ime shure you feel the saim way. Annabel."

  Coming back with his heart in a tumult of rapture, he found his partnerfast asleep and even snoring.