Читать книгу Fighting Stars - H. A. Cody - Страница 11
THE PICNIC
ОглавлениеAll that evening Henry was very active about the place, and after he had finished the chores he worked for a while at the potatoes. Mrs. Winters was surprised and also pleased. She concluded that this was the result of her announcement about leaving home. Perhaps her husband had decided to turn over a new leaf, after all.
Henry was doing much thinking, and the excitement that he saw ahead filled his soul with satisfaction. He knew that it would not take long to excite Sarah's curiosity, and then when her jealousy had become aroused, his object would be attained. But he had to be careful and be able to prove, when the time came, that he was merely assisting Lem in his love-affair. Ada would soon find out what was taking place, he was certain, and then she would make her brother's life most miserable. She would also call upon Sarah for assistance, and there was no knowing what those two women might do when once started upon a rampage, one to save her brother, and the other her husband, from the wiles of a beautiful school teacher.
The next morning Henry asked his wife to put him up a lunch, as he did not expect to come home for dinner.
"It's a long walk from the back pasture," he told her, "an' I want to stick to the job until it is finished."
"Why, I thought you were nearly through, and had only a little more of the fence to do," his wife replied.
"I thought so, too, Sarah, but there were spots I over-looked. I'm goin' to do it well while I'm at it. Hayin' will soon be on now, so I don't want to be chasin' cows all over creation then."
Thinking that her husband meant every word he said, Mrs. Winters prepared his dinner and packed it in a small basket.
"You will need something to drink, Henry, so I have put in a bottle of milk. Keep it in a cool place. You will miss your tea."
"Oh, I don't mind fer one meal, Sarah. There's a good spring of water on the side of the hill, so I'll put the bottle in that to keep it cool."
Henry's conscience gave him an uneasy twinge as he left the house, shouldered his ax and made his way across the clearing to the pasture beyond. He was glad when the trees and bushes hid him from his wife's view.
"I feel mean at deceivin' Sarah this way," he mused aloud. "But what am I to do when she kicks over the traces? She sprung that trick on me about my bein' sick, so I might as well have my turn now. I've got to do something besides work to keep her from leavin' me, an' help Lem at the same time."
When at last he reached the appointed place of meeting, any qualms of conscience which had been troubling him vanished at the sight which met his eyes. Lemuel and Miss Rivers were already there, and with them five children, three girls and two boys, ranging from eight to ten years of age. They were all seated upon the grass, listening to a story Lemuel was telling. He had just finished as Henry arrived.
"Well, well!" the latter exclaimed. "You folks here ahead of me. I thought ye said ten o'clock, an' it's only half past nine."
"It is always good to be ahead of time, especially on such a beautiful morning as this," the teacher smilingly replied. "It is so nice in the shade of these trees. Mr. Karsall has been entertaining us with such a delightful story."
"H'm, I guess he's practising Miss."
"What for, Mr. Winters?"
"Ask Lem, an' mebbe he'll tell ye."
The young man, however, was not inclined to be questioned. He rose quickly to his feet, and picked up the lunch basket.
"Suppose we move on," he suggested, "and get to the Falls before the sun is too hot. It's going to be a scorching day."
The children were eager to be off, and ran excitedly forward, leading the teacher and contending with one another for the privilege of holding her hands. The two men brought up in the rear, walking side by side. Lemuel's eyes were constantly fixed upon the pleasant scene ahead, and unconsciously he sighed.
"Tired, Lem?" Henry asked.
"Not a bit. What makes you think I am?"
"By the way ye jist sighed."
"I was merely thinking; that's all."
"About the stories ye'll have to tell, eh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, ye know as well as I do. Does Ada know yer on this trip t'day?"
"Certainly not. But what difference does that make?"
"A great deal, it seems to me. Ye won't be able to deceive her long, fer she'll soon catch on to yer game. I'm in the same fix meself, Lem, so I kin sympathize with ye."
"You are!"
"Yep, that's jist it. Sarah's vowed to leave me if I don't git to work. An' she'll do it, too, unless I kin knock the underpinin's out of her plan. She wants me to work harder than is good fer me. But that doesn't appeal to me one bit, so I've sneaked off here t'day while she thinks I'm fixin' up the fence. How did you git away, Lem?"
The young man laughed in spite of himself, causing Miss Rivers to look back.
"We're comin', Miss," Henry quickly called out. "We'll soon ketch up to ye, so don't worry." He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Be careful, Lem, and don't let the teacher know what villains we are. But, tell me, how in time did you git away from Ada?"
"The same as you did, Henry. She put up my dinner, thinking that I am to work all day in the back field."
"This is much nicer, eh, Lem?"
"It certainly is. Stolen pleasure is always the sweetest."
"But why should we consider it that, Lem?"
"Because you and I are cowards, Henry."
"Cowards!" Henry roared, and the sound of his voice caused both the teacher and the children to stop and turn around.
"I thought you men were quarreling," Miss Rivers declared as the men drew near.
"Naw, me an' Lem never quarrel," Henry replied. "We were jist havin' a little argyment, that was all. We understand each other, a'right."
They continued on their way and by the time they reached the Falls the men had forgotten all about their home worries. The glory of the day, the cool shaded path through the woods, and the laughter of the children banished all cares from their minds. Then came the beautiful water-fall, leaping over the high rocks, and splashing softly and musically into the foamy current below. On each side streams of water poured forth from between huge boulders, and then parting, flowed like gleaming threads of silver down over the surface of the great smooth stones. The scene was entrancing, and Miss Rivers' eyes took in every detail.
"What a picture!" she exclaimed. "And I must have you right in the foreground, Mr. Winters. You should be fishing."
"But I didn't bring me fishin'-outfit, Miss," Henry confessed. "I fergot all about it."
"I knew you would, so I brought mine along," Lemuel laughingly replied. "I shall cut a good rod and fit you out, all right."
"But the bait, Lem?"
"I have that, too, so don't worry. All you have to do is to sit where Miss Rivers puts you and do as she orders."
Henry found his task most pleasant when seated upon a big rock below the falls under the shadowing branches of a large tree, with the tumbling water behind him. He did exactly as he was told, and although he caught no fish, he did not mind. Life was sweet to him just then, and he wondered what Sarah would say should she happen along. He smiled grimly as he thought of the fence he was supposed to be mending. This was much better than the burning heat of the pasture. Lemuel was amusing the children along the stream a little farther down, and their shouts of laughter mingled with the noise of falling water. Miss Rivers sat a short distance away, her interest centered upon her work. Henry glanced at her from time to time, and he thought that he had never beheld a more beautiful woman in all his life. It was no wonder that Lem was about daft over her. If he were only young again, he, too, would certainly make a strong bid for her affection.
When at last the sketch was finished, luncheon was served, and there in a cool mossy spot upon the bank they all gathered. What a happy time they had, and Henry wished that he could always live in such a manner with no farm work to do, and with no one nagging at him all the time.
During the afternoon Henry played with the children on the edge of the stream. He made wonderful little boats for them which they sailed in shallow pools. When tired of this, they built stone houses and played in the sand and gravel that had been thrown up in heaps on bars along the shore. Miss Rivers and Lemuel were thus left much together, and Henry chuckled more than once as he watched them while they collected specimens of flowers or curious stones, and then seated themselves upon the bank to examine their treasures.
"It was more than to git my picter at the Falls that they wanted me along," Henry mused. "But I'm mighty glad I'm here, fer if I kin help them two young people with their love-affair it'll be a good work. Sarah an' Ada wouldn't think so, though, an' they'd call me an old fool, as mebbe I am. But I'd a durn sight rather be an old fool an' happy, than be mighty smart an' unhappy."
The afternoon sped all too quickly, and when it was time to start for home the children were loth to leave. They did not seem to be one bit tired and scampered lively back through the woods. Henry walked behind and watched with interest the merry group in front of him, Lemuel and Miss Rivers walking side by side, and the little ones racing on ahead.
After a tramp of over half an hour they came close to Lemuel's back field, and ere they emerged from the woods they could see the calm river far off in the distance. Then the open fields on the right came to view, sloping gently down to the house and the barn beyond. And as Henry looked in that direction he stopped dead in his tracks, for he had caught sight of two women picking berries, and he recognized them at once. He spoke quickly to Lemuel, and as the latter turned back to where he was standing, Henry pointed to the women.
"Sarah's there with Ada," he whispered. "I don't want to meet her jist now, so I'm goin' to leave ye right here an' cut down through me own pasture. You'll have to face the music, Lem."
"I'm afraid so," the young man ruefully replied, "But it might as well be now as at any other time. It's got to come, anyway."
"I know it, Lem, an' I sympathize with ye. But don't tell Sarah that I was at the picnic to-day."
"I won't give you away, Henry. She'll never hear it from me."
"That's good, Lem, an' I'll help ye all I kin, remember."
In another minute Henry was making his way through the bushes to where he had left his ax that morning. Here he stopped, and, hidden from view, he watched all that was taking place in the field beyond. He saw the berry pickers standing very erect looking intently upon the picnickers as they wended their way slowly along on the other side of the field down toward the house. He smiled grimly as he imagined what his wife and Ada were saying, and what was in store for Lem when his sister returned home.
"My, I'm mighty glad Sarah didn't see me," he muttered. "But she's bound to find out somehow, fer I've never been able to keep anything from her yit. She's a wonderful woman, an' no mistake. But she's got to have some suspicion before the week's up so she won't leave me. Now, how in time kin I manage it!"
He made his way slowly homeward, and when he reached the house he lighted the fire in the kitchen stove. By the time Mrs. Winters arrived the water was boiling in the kettle. She carried a bowl full of wild strawberries in her hand which she placed upon the table. When she had laid aside her wide-rimmed straw hat, she turned toward Henry who was fumbling in the wood-box for another stick to put on the fire.
"My! this has been a hot day," she declared. "It must have been terrible for you over there in the pasture."
"It was purty hot, Sarah. But, then, I'm used to it by this time."
"Did you get all the fence mended?"
"Yes, all done. It's as good as new now. Say, I'm as hungry as a bear, an' them berries look mighty temptin'. Where did ye git 'em?"
"I was out with Ada this afternoon. Poor girl, she is much worried."
"What's the matter with her now, Sarah?"
"It's about Lem. That school teacher has set her cap for him, and Ada's sure he's head over heels in love with her."
"That's nuthin' to worry about, Sarah. Lem's of age an' should know his own mind by this time."
"But it's the money question, Henry. If Lem marries, then he and Ada will get no more of their father's money. That's one of the things she's troubled about."
"What's the other?"
"The way Lem deceived her to-day. She put his dinner up for him this morning, thinking that he was going to work all day in his back field. But instead, he went off to the Falls with the teacher and some young children. Just think of that! How could he deceive his only sister that way?"
"Ye don't tell, Sarah! Well, I can't blame Lem. He's young an' the teacher's mighty handsome, so what kin ye expect? Ada does nuthin' but yang at him all the time about money, an' how he must never git married. She pounces on him like a hawk upon a chicken if he looks at a gal. I'm glad he's showed some spunk at last."
"But think of what's at stake, Henry. They'll lose all their money. And wasn't it mean for him to deceive her the way he did to-day?"
"Yes, that was mean, Sarah. But let's have some supper now. I'm about starved."