CHAPTER III
A TEST OF STRENGTH
"Hey, Pop! Have you brought him?" shouted the sturdy youngster whomRoger looked down at from the top of the stage. It seemed to him as ifthe boy was inquiring for some new kind of wild animal.
"He's here all right, Ade," replied Mr. Kimball, as he assisted hisnephew down. "He's on time t' th' minute, 'n' I hope yer mother's gotsuthin' good fer us both t' eat."
"Land sakes! Allers thinkin' a' suthin' t' put in yer stomach,"exclaimed Mrs. Kimball, laughing as she came forward to meet Roger andgive him a hearty kiss.
"Here! You two boys git acquainted," commanded Mr. Kimball, and he andhis wife stood aside until Roger could advance and meet his countrycousin. Adrian and Roger were about the same age, and, though they wereboth nearly of equal height, Adrian was the more sturdy of the two, andit was easily seen what an advantage he had because of his life in theopen air. He was tanned, and as brown as a butternut on his hands andface, and there was a clearness to his skin and a brightness to his eyesthat Roger lacked, for the latter was pale, and his eyes showed theeffects of hard study. Perhaps for a minute the two boys sized eachother up, almost like two dogs that meet for the first time, and wheneach is uncertain as to the other's intention.
Roger held out his hand, and Adrian took it in a firm grasp, shaking itup and down, pump-handle fashion.
"Can you wrestle?" asked the country boy suddenly. It was his firstgreeting.
"A little," admitted Roger, "but I haven't had much chance at it. I knowI'm not very good."
"Come on, then; right here in the grass," said Adrian. He startedpeeling off his coat.
"Not now, wait until arter supper," commanded Mr. Kimball. "Why, Ade,"he went on, "I'm ashamed on ye. Don't ye know Roger's bin travellin' agood while, 'n' he ain't hed much rest. I'm s'prised at ye. 'T ain'tfair t' rassal now."
"I'd just as soon," broke in Roger. "I never claimed to be much of awrestler, but I'm not afraid to try."
He made up his mind he was not going to be stumped by any boy of his ownage, in a test of strength, without an endeavor. So off came his coat ina hurry.
"Which way are you used to?" asked Adrian.
"Oh, I'm not particular."
"Well, catch-as-catch-can then," said the country boy, advancing towardRoger slowly.
It would seem that the two were hardly a match for each other, since thelife Adrian led had made him much more sturdy than was his cousin. Atthe same time, though Roger was not as strong and well set-up as a ladof his age should have been, he was of wiry frame and quick on hisfeet. So, after all, the contest might not be so one-sided as itappeared at first.
For a minute the two boys circled about each other, looking for anopening. They had their hands extended, seeking for good holds, andready to break any too dangerous grip on the part of the other. Theirfaces were set, and their eyes brightened with excitement, but, as itwas all in fun, there was not a trace of anger.
Suddenly Adrian reached out and caught Roger's left hand with his ownleft. At the same moment he tried to get his right arm about the cityboy's neck. But Roger was too quick for him, and, instead of gainingthis advantage, Adrian found himself circled about by Roger's arm. Thenthere was a straining of muscles; the two boys closed in a tight grip,and the struggle was on.
Mr. Kimball watched them with great delight, for he was fond of acontest of this kind; but his wife, while used to the rough play of herown boy with his comrades, was somewhat alarmed for the effects of thewrestling on her nephew, whose frame was not trained to such roughexercise, she thought. However, she said nothing, thinking there was notmuch likelihood of any serious harm resulting from the tussle. The mostthat might happen would be a good shaking up, and soreness.
The boys were now wrestling away in earnest. To Roger it was no surpriseto feel the sturdy muscles of his opponent, but it was some small wonderto Adrian to find Roger meeting his advance with a force he did notexpect was in his cousin's rather thin arms. At first Adrian tried toduck his head out from the encircling hold of Roger. When he could notsucceed in this he endeavored to pull the city boy off his feet. Thatwas of little avail, for Roger was lighter than Adrian, and shuffledquickly about on the grass.
When a few minutes of this pulling and hauling had passed, the boys werepanting a little, and breathing rapidly. Feeling the need of wind,Roger, for a short while, acted solely on the defensive. Then, seeing hewas not making out as poorly as he feared he would, he ventured to trysomething on the offence. He put out his right leg, and planted itfirmly behind that of Adrian's, and then tried to push his cousin overit backward, thinking to throw him in this fashion.
If Roger could have seen the smile that came over Adrian's face as hedid this, perhaps he would not have been so ready to try the old trick.The country boy let himself be shoved over, ever so slightly. He evenbecame limp in his opponent's hands, and Roger thought he saw victorymost unexpectedly before him.
"Wa'al, ef Roger ain't a goin' t' throw him!" exclaimed Mr. Kimball,though not displeased because he was going to see his own son defeated."Go at him, Roger!" he cried. "You're th' stuff!"
Then suddenly Adrian's body stiffened out. His arms that had been limpbecame rigid. From tilting backward he straightened up. He twisted hisneck from the crook of Roger's arm, grabbed his cousin by the shoulders,shifted rapidly on his feet, and, with a quick push, sent Roger overbackward, pinning him squarely upon his back on the sod.
"A fair fall! A fair fall!" cried Mr. Kimball, dancing about like ayoungster himself. "I thought ye had him, Roger, but he fooled ye. Guessye'll hev t' eat a leetle mite more, 'fore ye kin throw him," and thefarmer chuckled in delight.
Roger got up from the ground. He was smiling slightly, but there was adetermined look on his face that was good to see, for it showed he hadmet defeat bravely, and was not daunted by it.
"That's one," he said, breathing a trifle hard. "Maybe I'll do betternext time. Are you ready?" and he stood waiting for another trial.
"What! Do you want to go at it again?" asked Adrian, somewhat surprised.
"Of course," answered Roger. "And if you throw me this time I'll tryonce more, and then to-morrow, and next day, and the next, until I'vethrown you!"
"That's th' way t' talk!" exclaimed Mr. Kimball. "That's what I like t'hear. Never say die!" and he capered about as wild as a boy.
"Paw, how you talk!" said Mrs. Kimball. "Them boys sha'n't rassal anymore t'night. Adrian, I'm s'prised at ye, throwin' yer cousin that hasjest come out t' see ye."
"Oh, he's game, mother. He don't care," replied Adrian, smiling, andmuch pleased at Roger's pluck. "But we won't try any more falls rightaway," he added. "I'll give you another chance, though, Roger."
"Wa'al, I guess thet's th' best view t' take," said Mr. Kimball. "Yeknow ye come out here t' Cardiff, Roger, t' git fattened up, 'n' yewon't do thet ef ye keep on rassalin'. I guess I'll declare a flag a'truce. Now mind," and his voice became stern, "no more rassalin' 'til Igive ye leave. Ef ye want t' rassal, Ade, ye'll hev t' take on some unelse."
"All right, dad," replied Adrian, good naturedly.
Roger said nothing, but he made up his mind that, though the contest waspostponed for a while, he would not rest until he had thrown his cousinin a fair struggle. For the time, however, he was satisfied to wait.
"Come on 'n' wash up fer supper!" cried Mr. Kimball, as the boys wereputting on their coats. "Land a' Goshen, I'm 's hungry 's th' b'ar whatsees his shadder on Candlemas Day. Come on, Roger, 'n' I'll interduce yet' yer cousin Clara, 'n' let ye set yer teeth in some a' th' finestsalt-risin' bread in Cardiff, 'n' th' best buckwheat honey growed inOnondaga County," and he started for the house, followed by the two boysand Mrs. Kimball, who began to ask Roger a score of questions about hisfather and mother and the baby, which the boy answered as best he could.
For the first time since he had alighted from the stage Roger had achance to look about him. The comfortable large farmhouse, painted whitewith green shutters, stood on the east side
of the road, which ran alongthe edge of the beautiful Onondaga valley. Behind the house rose agently sloping hill, on the sunny declivities of which was a largevineyard, belonging to Mr. Kimball. In front of the house was a stretchof fields, forming the bottom part of the valley, and some of thesebroad acres belonged to Adrian's father. The valley was about threemiles wide, and, if one should walk across that space he would come tothe opposite hills that framed it in, towering up, with densely woodedsides, broken here and there with little farm clearings. It was a mostpleasant place to live, Roger thought. He paused for a minute, andturned to look at the view behind him.
The sun was just sinking down behind the topmost trees of the westernhills, and the slanting beams, sifting through the red and yellow leavesof the autumn forest, caused the woods to appear as if they were blazingwith golden fire. The beauty of the sunset made all pause to look at it,and Roger was sure he had never before seen such a happy, calm, peacefulvalley as the one in the centre of which nestled the village of Cardiff.
The Kimball house was of the large roomy kind the early farmers built,with tall white pillars supporting the roof of the front porch, on topof which was a balcony. A gravel driveway passed along the south side ofthe building leading to the barn in the rear. Instead of going in thefront door, which was, as is usual in the country, seldom opened, Mr.Kimball led the way around the side. Roger, following, heard the splashof running water, and, turning the corner, he saw a pipe spouting asparkling stream which fell into a big basin, chiselled out of a singlesolid stone. This was right at the side door of the house.
"Thar!" exclaimed Mr. Kimball, "thar, Roger, you'll find thet th' bestwater in th' State. Nothin' like it at Saratogy er New York City. Itcomes from a spring right up thar on my hill, 'n' we're th' fust familyt' git it, jest 's it bubbles up from th' ground. Here!" taking down thehalf of an empty cocoanut shell, which served as a dipper, "here, sampleit," and he let the spout fill the brown vessel with the babbling,laughing water.
Roger drank deep of the refreshing liquid, for he was thirsty from thelong drive, and, when he handed back the empty dipper, with a gratefulbreath of contentment, his uncle needed no better evidence that thewater was good, as indeed any one who has been to Cardiff and tasted ofit will bear witness.
Now there was the flutter of a red dress in the doorway, and Rogerlooked up to meet the gaze of a pretty, brown-eyed girl, whose flushedcheeks took on a deeper color as she smiled at the boy.
"That's him, Clara," called out Adrian. "That's him, 'n' I threw him,too."
"Thet's your cousin Clara," put in Mr. Kimball. "I guess ye never seenher before, 'cause th' last time yer mother were here, Clara wa'n't bornyit, 'n' I vum, ye was such' a leetle chap, thet it were hard work t'locate ye, in yer long dresses," and he laughed heartily at theremembrance.
Clara held out her hand, which Roger shook warmly. She was a girl offourteen, and was almost as large as Roger. He thought her one of theprettiest girls he had ever seen.
"I'm so glad you got here safely," she said. "I suppose Ade made youwrestle as soon as you got off the stage. I believe he would rather rollin the dirt that way than eat," and she glanced at her brother, who wasturning a handspring nimbly.
"Not much I wouldn't! Not when I know supper's so near ready," answeredAdrian, landing on his feet near Clara.
Then Roger became aware of the nicest odor coming from the region of thekitchen. He thought it was the best he had ever smelled, for he washungry, more hungry than he had been in several weeks, as his appetitehad not been good of late. Now it seemed as if he could not get to thetable quickly enough.
Once in the house Mrs. Kimball lost no time. She led Roger to his room,a pleasant chamber next to where Adrian slept, and, when she had seenhis valise and trunk brought up, and showed him where the washbowl andpitcher of water could be found, she left him to prepare for supper.
For a minute or two Roger felt a flood of lonesomeness come over him. Itwas so very quiet, out there in the country, more quiet than he had eversupposed it possible to be. Even though it was only six o'clock, it wasmore silent than at midnight in New York, where, indeed, there is neverlack of noise. Through the open window of the room came only the faintrattle of a distant wagon down the dusty road, and the chirp ofcrickets, that had begun their evening song early. For the first timesince Roger had started he wished himself home again. It wasn't half asnice, this going away, as he had thought it would be. He felt a lumpcoming into his throat and a trace of moisture into his eyes.
Surely he couldn't be going to cry? What, cry? Of course not. Who everheard of such a thing, even though it did seem lonesome just at first,you know, and even though he couldn't help feeling a trifle homesick. Hecontrolled his feelings, poured out the water, and dashed it into hisface vigorously. When he had finished using the towel he broke into acheery whistle that penetrated to the rooms below; and then he bethoughthimself of his determination to wrestle and throw Adrian some day. Hewas ready to go downstairs now.
It was a very merry supper. Roger had his first taste of salt-risingbread, which is made without yeast, and he voted it the best he everate. He had fresh buckwheat honey, which had been taken from the hivesthat same day, his uncle told him. Then there was crisp, brown ham, andgolden eggs, sugar-coated crullers, and rich creamy milk, and Rogersurprised himself by the manner in which he put away the victuals.
The evening was spent in the "settin' room," as Mrs. Kimball called it,where they had kerosene lamps, which seemed strange to the city boy,used only to gas or electricity. About nine o'clock Roger's eyes beganto get heavy, and to feel as if they had sticks in them. His headnodded once or twice, even while his uncle was talking to him.
"Bedtime," announced Mr. Kimball, suddenly, and Roger was glad to hearhim say so. With a small lamp his aunt lighted the way to his room.
"I say!" called Adrian from his apartment, when Roger had settled snugbetween the cool sheets,--"I say, Roger."
"Well?"
"We'll go fishing to-morrow. I know a deep hole where we can get somedandy fat chubs."
"Good," called Roger, through his open door. "That will be sport."
He fell to listening to the dreamy chirp of the crickets and thetrilling of the tree-toads. Gradually these sounds became fainter andfainter, and at last he could only hear them as if the insects were ascore of miles away. Roger was sound asleep.
The White Crystals: Being an Account of the Adventures of Two Boys Page 3