Chapter 6. Aviation And Avarice

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_ CHAPTER VI. AVIATION AND AVARICE

Breakfast at Capt. Sol Berry's was a bountiful meal. The depot master employed a middle-aged woman who came in each day, cooked his meals and did the housework, returning to her own home at night. After Mr. Wingate had mowed a clean swath through ham and eggs, cornbread and coffee, and had reached the cooky and doughnut stage, he condescended to speak further concerning the stolen paper.

"Well," he said, "Brown give me and Jonadab a serious talkin' to when he got us alone."

"'Now, fellers,' he says, 'we know what we've got to do. Nothin'll be too good for this shebang and us if we get that agreement back. Fust place, the thing was done a few minutes after the supper-bell rung. That is, unless that 'Enry is in on the deal, which ain't unlikely, considerin' the price he could get from the Gordon gang. Was anybody late at the tables?'

"Why, yes; there were quite a few late. Two of the 'gunners,' who'd been on a forlorn-hope duck hunt; and a minister and his wife, out walkin' for their health; and Parker and two fellers from the football team, who'd been practicin'.

"'Any of the waiters or the chambermaids?' asked Peter.

"I'd been expectin' he'd ask that, and I hated to answer.

"'One of the waiters was a little late,' says I. 'Willie wa'n't on hand immediate. Said he went to wash his hands.'

"Now the help gen'rally washed in the fo'castle--the servants' quarters, I mean--but there was a wash room on the floor where the Sterzer-Robinsons roomed. Peter looked at Jonadab, and the two of 'em at me. And I had to own up that Willie had come downstairs from that wash room a few minutes after the bell rung.

"'Hum!' says Peter T. 'Hum!' he says. 'Look here, Barzilla, didn't you tell me you knew that feller's real name, and that he had been studying law?'

"'No,' says I, emphatic. 'I said 'twas law he was tryin' to get away from. His tastes run large to literation and poetry.'

"'Hum!' says Peter again. 'All papers are more or less literary--even trust agreements. Hum!'

"'All the same,' says I, 'I'll bet my Sunday beaver that HE never took it.'

"They didn't answer, but looked solemn. Then the three of us went on watch.

"Nobody made a move to go out that evenin'. I kept whatever mail was handed in, but there was nothin' that looked like any agreements, and nothin' addressed to Gordon or his lawyers. At twelve or so, the detective come. Peter drove up to the depot to meet the special. He told the whole yarn on the way down.

"The detective was a nice enough chap, and we agreed he should be 'Mr. Snow,' of New York, gunnin' for health and ducks. He said the watch must be kept up all night, and in the mornin' he'd make his fust move. So said, so done.

"And afore breakfast that next mornin' we called everybody into the dinin' room, boarders, help, stable hands, every last one. And Peter made a little speech. He said that a very valuable paper had been taken out of Mr. Robinson's room, and 'twas plain that it must be on the premises somewhere. 'Course, nobody was suspicioned, but, speakin' for himself, he'd feel better if his clothes and his room was searched through. How'd the rest feel about it?

"Well, they felt diff'rent ways, but Parker spoke up like a brick, and said he wouldn't rest easy till HIS belongin's was pawed over, and then the rest fell in line. We went through everybody and every room on the place. Found nothin', of course. Snow--the detective--said he didn't expect to. But I tell you there was some talkin' goin' on, just the same. The minister, he hinted that he had some doubts about them dissipated gunners; and the gunners cal'lated they never see a parson yet wouldn't bear watchin'. As for me, I felt like a pickpocket, and, judgin' from Jonadab's face, he felt the same.

"The detective man swooped around quiet, bobbin' up in unexpected places, like a porpoise, and askin' questions once in a while. He asked about most everybody, but about Willie, especial. I judged Peter T. had dropped a hint to him and to Gabe. Anyhow, the old critter give out that he wouldn't trust a poet with the silver handles on his grandmarm's coffin. As for Grace, she acted dreadful nervous and worried. Once I caught her swabbin' her eyes, as if she'd been cryin'; but I'd never seen her and Willie together but the one time I told you of.

"Four days and nights crawled by. No symptoms yet. The Pinkertons was watchin' the Gordon lawyers' office in New York, and they reported that nothin' like that agreement had reached there. And our own man--Snow--said he'd go bail it hadn't been smuggled off the premises sense HE struck port. So 'twas safe so far; but where was it, and who had it?

"The final football game, the one with Wapatomac, was to be played over on their grounds on the afternoon of the fifth day. Parker, cap'n of the eleven, give out that, considerin' everything, he didn't know but we'd better call it off. Old Robinson--Sterzer, of course--wouldn't hear of it.

"'Not much,' says he. 'I wouldn't chance your losin' that game for forty papers. You sail in and lick 'em!' or words to that effect.

"So the eleven was to cruise across the bay in the Greased Lightnin', Peter's little motor launch, and the rooters was to go by train later on. 'Twas Parker's idee, goin' in the launch. 'Twould be more quiet, less strain on the nerves of his men, and they could talk over plays and signals on the v'yage.

"So at nine o'clock in the forenoon they was ready, the whole team--three waiters, two fishermen, one carpenter from up to Wellmouth Center, a stable hand, and Parker and three reg'lar boarders. These last three was friends of Parker's that he'd had come down some time afore. He knew they could play football, he said, and they'd come to oblige him.

"The eleven gathered on the front porch, all in togs and sweaters, principally provided and paid for by Sterzer. Cap'n Parker had the ball under his arm, and the launch was waitin' ready at the landin'. All the boarders--except Grace, who was upstairs in her room--and most of the help was standin' round to say good luck and good-by.

"Snow, the detective, was there, and I whispered in his ear.

"'Say,' I says, 'do you realize that for the fust time since the robbery here's a lot of folks leavin' the house? How do you know but what--'

"He winked and nodded brisk. 'I'll attend to that,' he says.

"But he didn't have to. Parker spoke fust, and took the wind out of his sails.

"'Gentlemen,' says he, 'I don't know how the rest of you feel, but, as for me, I don't start without clear skirts. I suggest that Mr. Brown and Mr. Wingate here search each one of us, thoroughly. Who knows,' says he, laughin', 'but what I've got that precious stolen paper tucked inside my sweater? Ha! ha! Come on, fellers! I'll be first.'

"He tossed the ball into a chair and marched into the office, the rest of the players after him, takin' it as a big joke. And there the searchin' was done, and done thorough, 'cause Peter asked Mr. Snow to help, and he knew how. One thing was sure; Pa Gabe's agreement wa'n't hid about the persons of that football team. Everybody laughed--that is, all but the old man and the detective. Seemed to me that Snow was kind of disappointed, and I couldn't see why. 'Twa'n't likely any of THEM was thieves.

"Cap'n Parker picked up his football and started off for the launch. He'd got about ha'fway to the shore when Willie--who'd been stand-in' with the rest of the help, lookin' on--stepped for'ard pretty brisk and whispered in the ear of the Pinkerton man. The detective jumped, sort of, and looked surprised and mighty interested.

"'By George!' says he. 'I never thought of that.' Then he run to the edge of the piazza and called.

"'Mr. Parker!' he sings out. 'Oh, Mr. Parker!'

"Parker was at the top of the little rise that slopes away down to the landin'. The rest of the eleven was scattered from the shore to the hotel steps. He turns, without stoppin', and answers.

"'What is it?' he sings out, kind of impatient.

"'There's just one thing we forgot to look at,' shouts Snow. 'Merely a matter of form, but just bring that--Hey! Stop him! Stop him!'

"For Parker, instead of comin' back, had turned and was leggin' it for the launch as fast as he could, and that was some.

"'Stop!' roars the Pinkerton man, jumpin' down the steps. 'Stop, or--'

"'Hold him, Jim!' screeched Parker, over his shoulder. One of the biggest men on the eleven--one of the three 'friends' who'd been so obligin' as to come down on purpose to play football--made a dive, caught the detective around the waist, and threw him flat.

"'Go on, Ed!' he shouts. 'I've got him, all right.'

"Ed--meanin' Parker--was goin' on, and goin' fast. All hands seemed to be frozen stiff, me and Jonadab and Peter T. included. As for me, I couldn't make head nor tail of the doin's; things was comin' too quick for MY understandin'.

"But there was one on that piazza who wa'n't froze. Fur from it! Willie, the poet waiter, made a jump, swung his long legs over the porch-rail, hit the ground, and took after that Parker man like a cat after a field mouse.

"Run! I never see such runnin'! He fairly flashed across that lawn and over the rise. Parker was almost to the landin'; two more jumps and he'd been aboard the launch. If he'd once got aboard, a turn of the switch and that electric craft would have had him out of danger in a shake. But them two jumps was two too many. Willie riz off the ground like a flyin' machine, turned his feet up and his head down, and lapped his arms around Parker's knees. Down the pair of 'em went 'Ker-wallop!' and the football flew out of Parker's arms.

"In an eyewink that poet was up, grabs the ball, and comes tearin' back toward us.

"'Stop him!' shrieks Parker from astern.

"'Head him off! Tackle him!' bellers the big chap who was hangin' onto the detective.

"They tell me that discipline and obeyin' orders is as much in football as 'tis aboard ship. If that's so, every one of the Old Home House eleven was onto their jobs. There was five men between Willie and the hotel, and they all bore down on him like bats on a June bug.

"'Get him!' howls Parker, racin' to help.

"'Down him!' chimes in big Jim, his knee in poor Snow's back.

"'Run, Bearse! Run!' whoops the Pinkerton man, liftin' his mouth out of the sand.

"He run--don't you worry about that! Likewise he dodged. One chap swooped at him, and he ducked under his arms. Another made a dive, and he jumped over him. The third one he pushed one side with his hand. 'Pushed!' did I say? 'Knocked' would be better, for the feller--the carpenter 'twas--went over and over like a barrel rollin' down hill. But there was two more left, and one of 'em was bound to have him.

"Then a window upstairs banged open.

"'Oh, Mr. Bearse!' screamed a voice--Grace Sterzer's voice. 'Don't let them get you!'

"We all heard her, in spite of the shoutin' and racket. Willie heard her, too. The two fellers, one at each side, was almost on him, when he stopped, looked up, jumped back, and, as cool as a rain barrel in January, he dropped that ball and kicked it.

"I can see that picture now, like a tableau at a church sociable. The fellers that was runnin', the others on the ground, and that literary pie passer with his foot swung up to his chin.

"And the ball! It sailed up and up in a long curve, began to drop, passed over the piazza roof, and out of sight.

"'Lock your door, Miss Sterzer,' sung out Fred Bearse--'Willie' for short. 'Lock your door and keep that ball. I think your father's paper is inside it.'

"As sure as my name is Barzilla Wingate, he had kicked that football straight through the open window into old Gabe's room."

The depot master whooped and slapped his knee. Mr. Wingate grinned delightedly and continued:

"There!" he went on, "the cat's out of the bag, and there ain't much more to tell. Everybody made a bolt for the room, old Gabe and Peter T. in the lead. Grace let her dad in, and the ball was ripped open in a hurry. Sure enough! Inside, between the leather and the rubber, was the missin' agreement. Among the jubilations and praise services nobody thought of much else until Snow, the Pinkerton man, come upstairs, his clothes tore and his eyes and nose full of sand.

"'Humph!' says he. 'You've got it, hey? Good! Well, you haven't got friend Parker. Look!'

"Such of us as could looked out of the window. There was the launch, with Parker and his three 'friends' in it, headin' two-forty for blue water.

"'Let 'em go,' says old Gabe, contented. 'I wouldn't arrest 'em if I could. This is no police-station job.'

"It come out afterwards that Parker was a young chap just from law school, who had gone to work for the firm of shysters who was attendin' to the Gordon interests. They had tracked Sterzer to the Old Home House, and had put their new hand on the job of gettin' that agreement. Fust he'd tried to shine up to Grace, but the shine--her part of it--had wore off. Then he decided to steal it; and he done it, just how nobody knows. Snow, the detective, says he cal'lates Henry, the servant, is wiser'n most folks thinks, fur's that's concerned.

"Snow had found out about Parker inside of two days. Soon's he got the report as to who he was, he was morally sartin that he was the thief. He'd looked up Willie's record, too, and that was clear. In fact, Willie helped him consider'ble. 'Twas him that recognized Parker, havin' seen him play on a law-school team. Also 'twas Willie who thought of the paper bein' in the football.

"Land of love! What a hero they made of that waiter!

"'By the livin' Moses!' bubbles old Gabe, shakin' both the boy's hands. 'That was the finest run and tackle and the finest kick I ever saw anywhere. I've seen every big game for ten years, and I never saw anything half so good.'

"The Pinkerton man laughed. 'There's only one chap on earth who can kick like that. Here he is,' layin' his hand on 'Willie's' shoulder. Bearse, the All-American half-back last year.'

"Gabe's mouth fell open. 'Not "Bung" Bearse, of Yarvard!' he sings out. 'Why! WHY!'

"'Of course, father!' purrs his daughter, smilin' and happy. 'I knew him at once. He and I were--er--slightly acquainted when I was at Highcliffe.'

"'But--but "Bung" Bearse!' gasps the old gent. 'Why, you rascal! I saw you kick the goal that beat Haleton. Your reputation is worldwide.'

"Willie--Fred Bearse, that is--shook his head, sad and regretful.

"'Thank you, Mr. Sterzer,' says he, in his gentle tenor. 'I have no desire to be famous in athletics. My aspirations now are entirely literary.'

"Well, he's got his literary job at last, bein' engaged as sportin' editor on one of Gabe's papers. His dad, old Sol Bearse, seems to be pretty well satisfied, partic'lar as another engagement between the Bearse family and the Sterzers has just been given out."

Barzilla helped himself to another doughnut. His host leaned back in his chair and laughed uproariously.

"Well, by the great and mighty!" he exclaimed, "that Willie chap certainly did fool you, didn't he. You can't always tell about these college critters. Sometimes they break out unexpected, like chickenpox in the 'Old Men's Home.' Ha! ha! Say, do you know Nate Scudder?"

"Know him? Course I know him! The meanest man on the Cape, and livin' right in my own town, too! Well, if I didn't know him I might trust him, and that would be the beginnin' of the end--for me."

"It sartin would. But what made me think of him was what he told me about his nephew, who was a college chap, consider'ble like your 'Willie,' I jedge. Nate and this nephew, Augustus Tolliver, was mixed up in that flyin'-machine business, you remember."

"I know they was. Mixed up with that Professor Dixland the papers are makin' such a fuss over. Wellmouth's been crazy over it all, but it happened a year ago and nobody that I know of has got the straight inside facts about it yet. Nate won't talk at all. Whenever you ask him he busts out swearin' and walks off. His wife's got such a temper that nobody dared ask her, except the minister. He tried it, and ain't been the same man since."

"Well," the depot master smilingly scratched his chin, "I cal'late I've got those inside facts."

"You HAVE?"

"Yes. Nate gave 'em to me, under protest. You see, I know Nate pretty well. I know some things about him that . . . but never mind that part. I asked him and, at last, he told me. I'll have to tell you in his words, 'cause half the fun was the way he told it and the way he looked at the whole business. So you can imagine I'm Nate, and--"

"'Twill be a big strain on my imagination to b'lieve you're Nate Scudder, Sol Berry."

"Thanks. However, you'll have to do it for a spell. Well, Nate said that it really begun when the Professor and Olivia landed at the Wellmouth depot with the freight car full of junk. Of course, the actual beginnin' was further back than that, when that Harmon man come on from Philadelphy and hunted him up, makin' proclamation that a friend of his, a Mr. Van Brunt of New York, had said that Scudder had a nice quiet island to let and maybe he could hire it.

"Course Nate had an island--that little sun-dried sandbank a mile or so off shore, abreast his house, which we used to call 'Horsefoot Bar.' That crazy Van Brunt and his chum, Hartley, who lived there along with Sol Pratt a year or so ago, re-christened it 'Ozone Island,' you remember. Nate was willin' to let it. He'd let Tophet, if he owned it, and a fool come along who wanted to hire it and could pay for the rent and heat.

"So Nate and this Harmon feller rowed over to the Bar--to Ozone Island, I mean--and the desolation and loneliness of it seemed to suit him to perfection. So did the old house and big barn and all the tumbledown buildin's stuck there in the beach-grass and sand. Afore they'd left they made a dicker. He wa'n't the principal in it. He was the private secretary and fust mate of Mr. Professor Ansel Hobart Dixland, the scientist--perhaps Scudder'd heard of him?

"Perhaps he had, but if so, Nate forgot it, though he didn't tell him that. Harmon ordered a fifteen-foot-high board fence built all around the house and barn, and made Nate swear not to tell a soul who was comin' nor anything. Dixland might want the island two months, he said, or he might want it two years. Nate didn't care. He was in for good pickin's, and begun to pick by slicin' a liberal commission off that fencebuildin' job. There was a whole passel of letters back and forth between Nate and Harmon, and finally Nate got word to meet the victims at the depot.

"There was the professor himself, an old dried-up relic with whiskers and a temper; and there was Miss Olivia Dixland, his niece and housekeeper, a slim, plain lookin' girl, who wore eyeglasses and a straight up and down dress. And there was a freight car full of crates and boxes and land knows what all. But nary sign was there of a private secretary and assistant. The professor told Nate that Mr. Harmon's health had suddenly broke down and he'd had to be sent South.

"'It's a calamity,' says he; 'a real calamity! Harmon has been with me in my work from the beginnin'; and now, just as it is approachin' completion, he is taken away. They say he may die. It is very annoyin'.'

"'Humph!' says Nate. 'Well, maybe it annoys HIM some, too; you can't tell. What you goin' to do for a secretary?'

"'I understand,' says the professor, 'that there is a person of consider'ble scientific attainment residin' with you, Mr. Scudder, at present. Harmon met him while he was here; they were in the same class at college. Harmon recommended him highly. Olivia,' he says to the niece, 'what was the name of the young man whom Harmon recommended?'

"'Tolliver, Uncle Ansel,' answers the girl, lookin' kind of disdainful at Nate. Somehow he had the notion that she didn't take to him fust rate.

"'Hey?' sings out Nate. 'Tolliver? Why, that's Augustus! AUGUSTUS! well, I'll be switched!'

"Augustus Tolliver was Nate's nephew from up Boston way. Him and Nate was livin' together at that time. Huldy Ann, Mrs. Scudder, was out West, in Omaha, takin' care of a cousin of hers who was a chronic invalid and, what's more to the purpose, owned a lot of stock in copper mines.

"Augustus was a freckle-faced, spindle-shanked little critter, with spectacles and a soft, polite way of speakin' that made you want to build a fire under him to see if he could swear like a Christian. He had a big head with consider'ble hair on the top of it and nothin' underneath but what he called 'science' and 'sociology.' His science wa'n't nothin' but tommy-rot to Nate, and the 'sociology' was some kind of drivel about everybody bein' equal to everybody else, or better. 'Seemed to think 'twas wrong to get a good price for a thing when you found a feller soft enough to pay it. Did you ever hear the beat of that in your life?' says Nate.

"However, Augustus had soaked so much science and sociology into that weak noddle of his that they kind of made him drunk, as you might say, and the doctor had sent him down to board with the Scudders and sleep it off. 'Nervous prostration' was the way he had his symptoms labeled, and the nerve part was all right, for if a hen flew at him he'd holler and run. Scart! you never see such a scart cat in your born days. Scart of a boat, scart of being seasick, scart of a gun, scart of everything! Most special he was scart of Uncle Nate. The said uncle kept him that way so's he wouldn't dast to kick at the grub him and Huldy Ann give him, I guess.

"'Augustus Tolliver,' says old Dixland, noddin'. 'Yes, that is the name. Has he had a sound scientific trainin'?'

"'Scientific trainin'!' says Nate. 'Scientific trainin'? Why, you bet he's had it! That's the only kind of trainin' he HAS had. He'll be just the feller for you, Mr. Dixland.'

"So that was settled, all but notifyin' Augustus. But Scudder sighted another speculation in the offin', and hove alongside of it.

"'Mr. Harmon, when he was here,' says he, 'he mentioned you needin' a nice, dependable man to live on the island and be sort of general roustabout. My wife bein' away just now, and all, it struck me that I might as well be that man. Maybe my terms'll seem a little high, at fust mention, but--'

"'Very good,' says the professor, 'very good. I'm sure you'll be satisfactory. Now please see to the unloading of that car. And be careful, VERY careful.'

"Nate broke the news to Augustus that afternoon. He had his nose stuck in a book, as usual, and never heard, so Nate yelled at him like a mate on a tramp steamer, just to keep in trainin'.

"'Who? Who? Who? What? What?' squeals Augustus, jumpin' out of the chair as if there was pins in it. 'What is it? Who did it? Oh, my poor nerves!'

"'Drat your poor nerves!' Nate says. 'I've got a good promisin' job for you. Listen to this.'

"Then he told about the professor's wantin' Gus to be assistant and help do what the old man called 'experiments.'

"'Dixland?' says Gus, 'Ansel Hobart Dixland, the great scientist! And I'm to be HIS assistant? Assistant to the man who discovered DIXIUM and invented--'

"'Oh, belay there!' snorts Nate, impatient. Tell me this--he's awful rich, ain't he?'

"'Why, I believe--yes, Harmon said he was. But to think of MY bein'--'

"'Now, nephew,' Nate cut in, 'let me talk to you a minute. Me and your Aunt Huldy Ann have been mighty kind to you sence you've been here, and here's your chance to do us a good turn. You stick close to science and the professor and let me attend to the finances. If this family ain't well off pretty soon it won't be your Uncle Nate's fault. Only don't you put your oar in where 'tain't needed.'

"Lord love you, Gus didn't care about finances. He was so full of joy at bein' made assistant to the great Ansel Whiskers Dixland that he forgot everything else, nerves and all.

"So in another day the four of 'em was landed on Ozone Island and so was the freight-car load of crates and boxes. Grub and necessaries was to be provided by Scudder--for salary as stated and commission understood.

"It took Nate less than a week to find out what old Dixland was up to. When he learned it, he set down in the sand and fairly snorted disgust. The old idiot was cal'latin' to FLY. Seems that for years he'd been experimentin' with what he called 'aeroplanes,' and now he'd reached the stage where he b'lieved he could flap his wings and soar. 'Thinks I,' says Nate, 'your life work's cut out for you, Nate Scudder. You'll spend the rest of your days as gen'ral provider for the Ozone private asylum.' Well, Scudder wa'n't complainin' none at the outlook. He couldn't make a good livin' no easier.

"The aeroplane was in sections in them boxes and crates. Nate and Augustus and the professor got out the sections and fitted 'em together. The buildin's on Ozone was all joined together--first the house, then the ell, then the wash-rooms and big sheds, and, finally, the barn. There was doors connectin', and you could go from house to barn, both downstairs and up, without steppin' outside once.

"'Twas in the barn that they built what Whiskers called the 'flyin' stage.' 'Twas a long chute arrangement on trestles, and the idea was that the aeroplane was to get her start by slidin' down the chute, out through the big doors and off by the atmosphere route to glory. I say that was the IDEA. In practice she worked different.

"Twice the professor made proclamations that everything was ready, and twice they started that flyin' machine goin'. The fust time Dixland was at the helm, and him and the aeroplane dropped headfust into the sandbank just outside the barn. The machine was underneath, and the pieces of it acted as a fender, so all the professor fractured was his temper. But it took ten days to get the contraption ready for the next fizzle. Then poor, shaky, scart Augustus was pilot, and he went so deep into the bank that Nate says he wondered whether 'twas wuth while doin' anything but orderin' the gravestone. But they dug him out at last, whole, but frightened blue, and his nerves was worse than ever after that.

"Then old Dixland announces that he has discovered somethin' wrong in the principle of the thing, and they had to wait while he ordered some new fittin's from Boston.

"Meanwhile there was other complications settin' in. Scudder was kept busy providin' grub and such like and helpin' the niece, Olivia, with the housework. Likewise he had his hands full keepin' the folks alongshore from findin' out what was goin' on. All this flyin' foolishness had to be a dead secret.

"But, busy as he was, he found time to notice the thick acquaintance that was developin' between Augustus and Olivia. Them two was what the minister calls 'kindred sperrits.' Seems she was sufferin' from science same as he was and, more'n that, she was loaded to the gunwale with 'social reform.' To hear the pair of 'em go on about helpin' the poor and 'settlement work' and such was enough, accordin' to Nate, to make you leave the table. But there! He couldn't complain. Olivia was her uncle's only heir, and Nate could see a rainbow of promise ahead for the Scudder family.

"The niece was a nice, quiet girl. The only thing Nate had against her, outside of the sociology craziness and her not seemin' to take a shine to him, was her confounded pets. Nate said he never had no use for pets--lazy critters, eatin' up the victuals and costin' money--but Olivia was dead gone on 'em. She adopted an old reprobate of a tom-cat, which she labeled 'Galileo,' after an Eyetalian who invented spyglasses or somethin' similar, and a great big ugly dog that answered to the hail of 'Phillips Brooks'; she named him that because she said the original Phillips was a distinguished parson and a great philanthropist.

"That dog was a healthy philanthropist. When Nate kicked him the first time, he chased him the whole length of the barn. After that they had to keep him chained up. He was just pinin' for a chance to swaller Scudder whole, and he showed it.

"Well, as time went on, Olivia and Augustus got chummier and chummier. Nate give 'em all the chance possible to be together, and as for old Professor Whiskers, all he thought of, anyway, was his blessed flyin' machine. So things was shapin' themselves well, 'cordin' to Scudder's notion.

"One afternoon Nate come, unexpected, to the top of a sand hill at t'other end of the island, and there, below, set Olivia and Augustus. He had a clove hitch 'round her waist, and they was lookin' into each other's spectacles as if they was windows in the pearly gates. Thinks Nate: 'They've signed articles,' and he tiptoed away, feelin' that life wa'n't altogether an empty dream.

"They was lively hours, them that followed. To begin with, when Nate got back to the barn he found the professor layin' on the floor, under the flyin' stage, groanin' soulful but dismal. He'd slipped off one of the braces of the trestles and sprained both wrists and bruised himself till he wa'n't much more than one big lump. He hadn't bruised his tongue none to speak of, though, and his language wa'n't sprained so that you'd notice it. What broke him up most of all was that he'd got his aeroplane ready to 'fly' again, and now he was knocked out so's he couldn't be aboard when she went off the ways.

"'It is the irony of fate,' says he.

"'I got it off the blacksmith over to Wellmouth Centre,' Nate told him; 'but HE might have got it from Fate, or whoever you mean. 'Twas slippery iron, I know that, and I warned you against steppin' on it yesterday.'

"The professor more'n hinted that Nate was a dunderhead idiot, and then he commenced to holler for Tolliver; he wanted to see Tolliver right off. Scudder thought he'd ought to see a doctor, but he wouldn't, so Nate plastered him up best he could, got him into the big chair in the front room, and went huntin' Augustus. Him and Olivia was still camped in the sand bank. Gus's right arm had got tired by this time, I cal'late, but he had a new hitch with his left. Likewise they was still starin' into each other's specs.

"'Excuse me for interruptin' the mesmerism,' says Nate, 'but the professor wants to see you.'

"They jumped and broke away. But it took more'n that to bring 'em down out of the clouds. They'd been flyin' a good sight higher than the old aeroplane had yet.

"'Uncle Nathan,' says Augustus, gettin' up and shakin' hands, 'I have the most wonderful news for you. It's hardly believable. You'll never guess it.'

"'Give me three guesses and I'll win on the fust,' says Nate. 'You two are engaged.'

"They looked at him as if he'd done somethin' wonderful. 'But, Uncle,' says Gus, shakin' hands again, 'just think! she's actually consented to marry me.'

"'Well, that's gen'rally understood to be a part of engagin', ain't it?' says Nate. 'I'm glad to hear it. Miss Dixland, I congratulate you. You've got a fine, promisin' young man.'

"That, to Nate's notion, was about the biggest lie he ever told, but Olivia swallered it for gospel. She seemed to thaw toward Scudder a little mite, but 'twa'n't at a permanent melt, by no means.

"'Thank you, Mr. Scudder,' says she, still pretty frosty. 'I am full aware of Mr. Tolliver's merits. I'm glad to learn that YOU recognize them. He has told some things concernin' his stay at your home which--'

"'Yes, yes,' says Nate, kind of hurried. 'Well, I'm sorry to dump bad news into a puddle of happiness like this, but your Uncle Ansel, Miss Dixland, has been tryin' to fly without his machine, and he's sorry for it.'

"Then he told what had happened to the professor, and Olivia started on the run for the house. Augustus was goin', too, but Nate held him back.

"'Wait a minute, Gus,' says he. 'Walk along with me; I want to talk with you. Now, as an older man, your nighest relation, and one that's come to love you like a son--yes, sir, like a son--I think it's my duty just now to say a word of advice. You're goin' to marry a nice girl that's comin' in for a lot of money one of these days. The professor, he's kind of old, his roof leaks consider'ble, and this trouble is likely to hurry the end along.

"'Now, then,' Nate goes on, 'Augustus, my boy, what are you and that simple, childlike girl goin' to do with all that money? How are you goin' to take care of it? You and 'Livia--you mustn't mind my callin' her that 'cause she's goin' to be one of the family so soon--you'll want to be fussin' with science and such, and you won't have no time to attend to the finances. You'll need a good, safe person to be your financial manager. Well, you know me and you know your Aunt Huldy Ann. WE know all about financin'; WE'VE had experience. You just let us handle the bonds and coupons and them trifles. We'll invest 'em for you. We'll be yours and 'Livia's financial managers. As for our wages, maybe they'll seem a little high, but that's easy arranged. And--'

"Gus interrupted then. 'Oh, that's all settled,' he says. 'Olivia and I have planned all that. When we're married we shall devote our lives to social work--to settlement work. All the money we ever get we shall use to help the poor. WE don't want any of it. We shall live AMONG the poor, live just as frugally as they do. Our money we shall give--every cent of it--to charity and--'

"'Lord sakes!' yells Nate, 'DON'T talk that way! Don't! Be you crazy, too? Why--'

"But Gus went on, talkin' a steady streak about livin' in a little tenement in what he called the 'slums' and chuckin' the money to this tramp and that, till Nate's head was whirlin'. 'Twa'n't no joke. He meant it and so did she, and they was just the pair of loons to do it, too.

"Afore Nate had a chance to think up anything sensible to say, Olivia comes hollerin' for Gus to hurry. Off he went, and Nate followed along, holdin' his head and staggerin' like a voter comin' home from a political candidate's picnic. All he could think of was: 'THIS the end of all my plannin'! What--WHAT'LL Huldy Ann say to THIS?'

"Nate found the professor bolstered up in his chair, with the other two standin' alongside. He was layin' down the law about that blessed aeroplane.

"'No! no! NO! I tell you!' he roars, 'I'll see no doctor. My invention is ready at last, and, if I'm goin' to die, I'll die successful. Tolliver, you've been a faithful worker with me, and yours shall be the privilege of makin' the first flight. Wheel me to the window, Olivia, and let me see my triumph.'

"But Olivia didn't move. Instead, she looked at Augustus and he at her. 'Wheel me to the window!' yells Dixland. 'Tolliver, what are you waitin' for? The doors are open, the aeroplane is ready. Go this instant and fly.'

"Augustus was a bird all right, 'cordin' to Nate's opinion, but he didn't seem anxious to spread his wings. He was white, and them nerves of his was all in a twitter. If ever there was a scart critter, 'twas him then.

"'Go out and fly,' says Nate to him, pretty average ugly. 'Don't you hear the boss's order? Here, professor, I'll push you to the window.'

"'Thank you, Scudder,' says Dixland. And then turnin' to Gus: 'Well, sir, may I ask why you wait?'

"'Twas Olivia that answered. 'Uncle Ansel,' says she, 'I must tell you somethin'. I should have preferred tellin' you privately,' she puts in, glarin' at Nate, 'but it seems I can't. Mr. Tolliver and I are engaged to be married.'

"Old Whiskers didn't seem to care a continental. All he had in his addled head was that flyin' contraption.

"'All right, all right,' he snaps, fretty, 'I'm satisfied. He appears to be a decent young man enough. But now I want him to start my aeroplane.'

"'No, Uncle Ansel,' goes on Olivia, 'I cannot permit him to risk his life in that way. His nerves are not strong and neither is his heart. Besides, the aeroplane has failed twice. Luckily no one was killed in the other trials, but the chances are that the third time may prove fatal.'

"'Fatal, you imbecile!' shrieks the professor. 'It's perfected, I tell you! I--'

"'It makes no difference. No, uncle, Augustus and I have made up our minds. His life and health are too precious; he must be spared for the grand work that we are to do together. No, Uncle Ansel, he shall NOT fly.'

"Did you ever see a cat in a fit? That was the professor just then, so Nate said. He tried to wave his sprained wrists and couldn't; tried to stamp his foot and found it too lame. But his eyeglasses flashed sparks and his tongue spit fire.

"'Are you goin' to start that machine?' he screams at the blue-white, shaky Augustus.

"'No, Professor Dixland,' stammers Gus. 'No, sir, I'm sorry, but--'

"'Why don't you ask Mr. Scudder to make the experiment, uncle?' suggests that confounded niece, smilin' the spitefullest smile.

"'Scudder,' says the professor, 'I'll give you five thousand dollars cash to start in that aeroplane this moment.'

"For a jiffy Nate was staggered. Five thousand dollars CASH--whew! But then he thought of how deep Gus had been shoved into that sandbank. And there was a new and more powerful motor aboard the thing now. Five thousand dollars ain't much good to a telescoped corpse. He fetched a long breath.

"'Well, now, Mr. Dixland,' he says, 'I'd like to, fust rate, but you see I don't know nothin' about mechanics.'

"'Professor--' begins Augustus. 'Twas the final straw. Old Whiskers jumped out of the chair, lameness and all.

"'Out of this house, you ingrate!' he bellers. 'Out this instant! I discharge you. Go! go!'

"He was actually frothin' at the mouth. I cal'late Olivia thought he was goin' to die, for she run to him.

"'You'd better go, I think,' says she to her shakin' beau. 'Go, dear, now. I must stay with him for the present, but we will see each other soon. Go now, and trust me.'

"'I disown you, you ungrateful girl,' foams her uncle. 'Scudder, I order you to put that--that creature off this island.'

"'Yes, sir,' says Nate, polite; 'in about two shakes of a heifer's tail.'

"He started for Augustus, and Gus started for the door. I guess Olivia might have interfered, but just then the professor keels over in a kind of faint and she had to tend to him. Gus darts out of the door with Nate after him. Scudder reached the beach just as his nephew was shovin' off in the boat, bound for the mainland.

"'Consarn your empty head!' Nate yelled after him. 'See what you get by not mindin' me, don't you? I'm runnin' things on this island after this. I'm boss here; understand? When you're ready to sign a paper deedin' over ha'f that money your wife's goin' to get to me and Huldy Ann, maybe I'll let you come back. And perhaps then I'll square things for you with Dixland. But if you dare to set foot on these premises until then I'll murder you; I'll drown you; I'll cut you up for bait; I'll feed you to the dog.'

"He sculled off, his oars rattlin' 'Hark from the tomb' in the rowlocks. He b'lieved Nate meant it all. Oh, Scudder had HIM trained all right." _

Read next: Chapter 7. Captain Sol Decides To Move

Read previous: Chapter 5. A Baby And A Robbery

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