CHAPTER XI
COPPER AND OLD BONES
Though Roger and Adrian knew little of the business connected withmortgages and railroad shares, they realized nevertheless, thatsomething serious had occurred. Adrian never recalled seeing his fatherlook so helpless and worried but once before, and that had been when hismother was dangerously ill. Mr. Kimball's face was pale, and his blueeyes, usually so bright and snapping, were dull, and seemed to be gazingat something far away.
For a moment after Mrs. Kimball's announcement no one spoke. Then, as aman recovering from some heavy blow, the farmer straightened up, shookhimself like a big dog emerging from the water, and said:
"Wa'al, boys, it's true, jest's mother here says. It's bad news, sure'nuff, 'n' I don't know when I've bin so knocked out. It's so suddint,jest like one a' them heavy thunder claps thet comes on ye 'fore ye knowthere's a storm brewin'."
"Is it very bad?" asked Adrian, softly. "Is all the money gone? Can'tyou get any of it back?"
"Seems not, son. Leastwise ef I kin, it won't be soon 'nuff fer me,'cause th' mortgage is agoin' t' be foreclosed, 'n' t' stave thet offI've got t' hev ready cash. Ef either a' th' calamaties hed happenedone at a time, I could a' stood it, but havin' 'em both together kinderflambusts me, thet's what it does. I'm reg'lar flambusted, thet's what Ibe; flambusted, thet's it," and he sank down in a chair, muttering thisone word over and over.
Then, by degrees, Roger and Adrian gathered enough of the matter tounderstand it somewhat. When Mr. Kimball purchased his farm, some yearsago, he did not have enough money to pay all of the price, and he gave amortgage for the balance, that being a paper, by the terms of which heagreed, after a certain number of years, to pay the rest of the moneydue or forfeit the farm.
As time went on he prospered with his crops and paid off some of themortgage. Then his father died and left him a neat sum of money. Butinstead of using this to cancel the mortgage, Mr. Kimball was induced byhis brother Seth to invest it in the stock of a certain railroad. Sethtold him that there the money would earn good interest, and when thetime came to pay off the mortgage, Mr. Kimball could sell his railroadstock and with the money settle the debt on his farm, with somethingleft.
This would have been a good plan if matters in the financial worldhadn't gone wrong just before Mr. Kimball was to draw his money from theinvestment in the railroad shares. The mortgage was nearly due, and heexpected to pay it off. But there came a panic in the stock market, andthe shares the honest farmer had put his money in dropped below par, sofar, in fact, that it seemed hopeless ever to expect them to riseagain. And then, with all his money gone, to be informed that unless hepaid off the balance of the mortgage the farm would be taken from himwas blow enough to discourage any one.
"Wa'al," said Mr. Kimball, after a long silence, and with morecheerfulness in his tones than his family had heard since he got the badnews, "wa'al, there's no use cryin' over spilt milk, 'n' what can't becured must be endured. Th' money's gone, thet's sure. Now I'll hev t'pitch in 'n' airn some more. I'm young yit. I guess I kin do it. Neversay die, 'n' don't guv up th' ship. Them's my mottoes," and he blew hisnose with a vigor that seemed to be uncalled for.
"It's turrible," spoke up Mrs. Kimball, "jest 's ye were gittin' readyt' take things a leetle easier, Bert. It's a shame, thet's what 't is,'n' ef I could see some a' them railroad directors I'd tell 'em so,thet's what I would."
"Easy, easy," said Mr. Kimball. "It's tough luck, t' be sure, but fromwhat th' newspapers says, I ain't th' only one. There's lots went downin the Wall Street crash. Plenty a' others lost their money. Th' thingfer me 'n' you t' do now, is t' consider what's t' be done. No usesettin' down 'n' foldin' our hands. Cryin' never mended matters yit. Imust go t' th' city t' see Jackson 'bout th' mortgage. Ef he'll hold offa bit mebby I kin straighten things out. Ef he won't--"
He didn't finish the sentence, but they all knew what he meant.
"I'm hungry," announced Mr. Kimball, suddenly. "Why," looking at theclock, "here 't is near seven, 'n' th' chores ain't done yit, 'n' notable set."
"I didn't think any 'bout eatin'," said Mrs. Kimball, "but I'll gitsupper right away."
She and Clara started to put the meal on, and in bustling about theyforgot for a time the bad news. Roger and Adrian went out to help lockup the barn and various out-houses, to bed down the horses, and see thateverything was in good shape for the night.
"It's too bad, isn't it?" ventured Roger, noting his cousin's unusualsilence and guessing the cause.
"Well, as dad says, it might be worse," answered Adrian. "I'm going topitch in and help all I can."
"And I will too, as long as I'm here," said Roger heartily, and byreason of this trouble the two boys felt more like brothers thancousins.
"I don't s'pose there's much we can do though, Ade."
"I know how I can make considerable loose change," replied the countryboy. "If it wasn't so near winter I could clear twenty-five dollarseasy, and that'd pay some of the interest."
"How could you make twenty-five dollars?" asked Roger.
"I'll show you to-morrow. There goes the supper horn," and the two boyshurried into the house.
If Roger expected the bad news to have any immediate effect on life athis uncle's house, he was agreeably disappointed. He looked at the tableclosely to see if there had been any change made in the quality orquantity of the food, but the board seemed more bountifully spread thanever. There were meat and potatoes, a big plate of salt-rising bread, alarge pat of sweet golden butter, cakes, cookies, preserves, cheese, andsome dark brown buckwheat honey, enough for a dozen hungry boys. ThenRoger felt his heart a little lighter when he saw there was no need toput the household on short rations. Adrian too, appeared relieved whenhe saw the well-spread table, and he gazed on it with a feeling ofthankfulness that things were not as bad as they might have been.
Under other circumstances there might have been a more cheerful partygathered around the board, but then it is hard to be light-hearted whentrouble is in the air and when there are worries to be met. However, Mr.Kimball did his best to shake off the feeling of gloom, and he reallysucceeded so well that, before the meal was over, he had Roger laughingat his recital of some of the queer doings of the people of Cardiff.
After supper, which was not finished until rather later than usual, Mr.Kimball busied himself with various papers and account books. Roger andAdrian feeling tired from their day's tramp went to bed, where, in spiteof the memory of the trouble hanging over the house, they slept soundly.In the morning Mr. Kimball went to Syracuse by the early stage, and asthe hired man had to take a load of grapes to the city, the two boyswere left with the farm to themselves. There were a few chores to do,which they made short work of, and then Adrian, taking a large bag fromthe barn, started off across the fields.
"Where to now?" asked Roger.
"I told you I'd show you how to make a little money, didn't I?" saidAdrian. "This is one of the ways. I used to do it when I was a smallchap, but lately I haven't had much chance, so now I'm going to start inagain."
"What are you going to do?"
"Gather bones."
"Bones?"
"Yes, bones."
Roger thought his cousin was joking, but a look at the face of thecountry lad convinced the city boy there was a serious purpose back ofthe words.
"You see it's this way," explained Adrian. "Bones are good to makefertilizer of, and there's a factory over to Tully where they buy 'em.They pay half a cent a pound, and farmers that have lots of bones aroundsend 'em to the factory. But there's plenty of bones lying around loosein the fields, and at the back doors of houses. When I was about tenyears old, me and Chot Ramsey used to make a half dollar, easy,gathering up the old bones and selling 'em when the collecting wagoncame from Tully. That's what I'm going to do now. But I'm going to do itdifferent. I know a number of women folks that'll save their meat bonesfor me if I ask 'em, and I'm going to. Besides collecting all I canlying around loose, you see I'll have a sort of private
supply tocollect from. But maybe you don't want to come along. It's not much fun,but it's not dirty, for the bones are all clean ones."
"Of course I'll come along and help," said Roger. "Didn't I say Iwould?"
It was rather a novel idea, this one of Adrian's, so Roger thought. Butplenty of country boys know the value of bones, though they may neverhave taken the trouble to collect and sell them. Roger and Adrianstarted off over the fields. The country lad seemed to know just whereto go, and, before proceeding far, he had come across several big beefbones, clean and white.
They were tossed into the bag which the boys carried between them, slungon a long pole. They visited several back-yards of houses, where Adrianknew the people, and, when he had collected all the bones in sight, heasked the women if they wouldn't save any more they might have, as hewould be around again in a week. Most of them promised, for they likedthe boy, who had often done favors for them.
"Just throw 'em in one place always, and I can gather 'em up everyweek," said Adrian, at house after house.
Good luck seemed to be with the boys, for they found more bones thanever Adrian had hoped for. The bag got so heavy they could hardly carryit, and so were forced to make a trip back to the house, to get rid ofthe load.
"We must have fifty pounds there," reckoned Adrian, proudly, as he piledthe contents of the bag in a heap back of the barn, "and there's fiftymore we can get to-day. Not bad for a start, eh, Roger? One hundredpounds of fertilizer. That's fifty cents."
"I call it fine," said Roger. "But of course we can't expect to do aswell as this every day."
"No, we'll have to tramp farther for our next hundred pounds," agreedAdrian, as they started off on their second trip.
They went over the fields and roads. The bag was almost full a secondtime when Adrian, who had picked up a smooth, round stone to throw,stopped short as it fell in the midst of some corn stubble, with aresounding clang.
"That hit something," he declared, as he set off on a run, much to thesurprise of Roger. "Hurrah! I thought so," shouted Adrian a secondlater, as he stooped over where he had seen the stone fall. He held upto view a battered old wash-boiler.
"What good is that?" asked Roger.
"Good? Why, can't you see it has a copper bottom. Copper brings fifteencents a pound from the junk man, and there's three pounds here."
He caught up a heavy sharp rock and soon had cut and hammered the bottomoff the boiler, the upper part of which was of tin. The copper he beatup into a compact mass and placed it in the bag with the bones. Thenhaving a pretty good load, the boys started home. On the way Adrian cameacross a large bottle, which he picked up.
"I wish I knew where there were a lot of these," he remarked.
"Why?" asked Roger.
"'Cause George Bennett gives three cents apiece for large ones likethis. We must keep our eyes peeled for 'em as we go along."
And they did, but they found no more that day.
"Let's see," said Adrian, as they were washing up for dinner. "A hundredpounds of bones is fifty cents, and we'll reckon forty cents for thecopper. With three cents for the bottle, that makes ninety-three centsfor the morning. My half is forty-six and a half cents; not bad for astarter, eh?"
"Well, I guess you're a little wrong in the figuring," said Roger.
"How so?"
"Why, it's all yours. I won't take half. I'm only helping you in this. Idon't want any share."
"But you've got to take it."
"Well, I won't. It's all going into a general fund to help pay thatmortgage," said Roger, stoutly. "Probably we'll not get an awful lot,but every little helps, and your father is going to have all my share."
"Well--well," began Adrian, somewhat affected by his cousin's offer, butwhat he would have said was never known, for the dinner horn blew justthen, and the boys were so hungry they forgot everything else save theirappetites.
In the afternoon they picked more grapes, and neither of them suggestedstopping to rest or play. The fascination of business was on them, andthey seemed to have taken the responsibility of wanting to do all theycould.
"Might as well get a lot picked," suggested Adrian, as he and Rogersnipped away at the big bunches, "then dad can hurry to the city withthem while the price is high;" and they gathered the fruit as long asthey could see.
When Mr. Kimball returned home from the city that night he seemed tofeel a little easier than when he left. He told his wife, and the boysoverheard him, that he had succeeded in getting a delay of the mortgageforeclosure until May first, and that would give him several months totry to get the money together. True, it seemed but a respite, for therewas not much chance of his securing the cash, he said, since later newsof the failure of the railroad shares only confirmed the first report,that they were gone beyond hope of ever getting anything from them. Butfor all that, Mr. Kimball was hopeful. There was not much chance ofusing the money he would get from the present crops, as that would beneeded for ordinary household expenses. Nevertheless the farmer found achance to laugh a little, and he was greatly pleased and touched when helearned what the boys had done.
"We must hurry 'n' git th' rest a' th' grapes picked to-morrow," hesaid. "Cold spell's a-comin', 'n' a frost'll nip 'em so they won't sell.My! But I'm hungry, though, mother. Hungry's a b'ar. So we'll hevsupper, 'n' talk arterwards."
The meal progressed more pleasantly than the one of the night before,and when it was over and the dishes and chores were done, they all tooktheir chairs in the "settin' room," as Mrs. Kimball called it. ThereClara played the organ, and the boys sang songs and hymns until it wastime to go to bed. Roger was tired with the day's experience, and he wasanxious, too, about his uncle. But this did not prevent him fromsleeping, and he dropped off, feeling that busy and exciting as his lifein the country had been, it had already done him good. But there weremore lively times ahead of him.
The White Crystals: Being an Account of the Adventures of Two Boys Page 11