Читать книгу Head Tide - Joseph Crosby Lincoln - Страница 7

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Franklin Cobb was a trifle heavy-eyed when he came down to breakfast. The Dodsons had, of course, been awakened by the cannon firing and Elisha was inclined to gloat over the obvious fact that, if the South Siders had planned to repeat their trick of the previous Fourth, their plans had been frustrated.

“Smart notion, that one, of Manasseh’s lockin’ those guns up in his back store,” he chuckled. “He’s a wise old owl, Manasseh is.... Now what are you smilin’ to yourself about, Nellie?”

Helen looked up from her coffee pouring.

“Did you say ‘owl’ or ‘eel,’ Father?” she asked, innocently.

“Eh? Why, I said ‘owl,’ of course. Never heard that an eel was ’specially wise, as I know of.”

“He’s especially slippery.... There’s your coffee, Mr. Cobb. You look to me as if you needed it. Didn’t you sleep well?”

He told of his morning’s adventure. Elisha’s excited exclamations punctuated the telling. It was not until Franklin described his interview with the girl at the window that Helen interrupted.

“Victoria Bates,” she put in. “That’s who it was. She is spending the Fourth with Maisie Rogers; I heard she was going to.”

“ ’Twas in the Eagle,” chimed in her father. “I remember now. Alma Perry had it in the ‘Gleanings’ last week. She finds out everything, Alma does.”

Cobb remembered the local. Stupid of him not to think of it before. The girl was Victoria Bates, of course; she who owned the new dogcart and whose father appeared to own the Four Corners—or the larger part of it.

“Maisie and her go to the same boardin’ school together,” Elisha went on. “They’re great chums, those two. Stick together in about everything—except when it comes to stickin’ up for the parts of the town they live in. Cap’n Zenas Rogers, Maisie’s father, is one of the big men down there. He and Cap’n Bates used to be hand and glove in runnin’ district politics, but lately the story is that they don’t get on so well together.”

Helen nodded. “The South Side is beginning to take a hand in its own politics,” she observed. “Well, Mr. Cobb, how are you going to spend the Fourth?”

Cobb had been doing a little thinking and he answered promptly.

“The first thing I shall do,” he announced, “is look up that boarding house your father mentioned when he and I first met. It looks as if I might have to stay in Wellmouth for several days at least, and I must find a place to stay in.”

Elisha and Helen looked at each other.

“Father and I have been talking about that,” she said, “and we both think you had better stay here with us. It probably won’t be long and you’re not the least bit of trouble. We have a spare room and it is as easy to cook for three as two. Stay here for the present. We want you to, don’t we, Father?”

“Certain sure. Come now, you stay, Mr. Cobb.”

Franklin protested that he shouldn’t do any such thing. They had been more kind than he could express, but he must not think of imposing upon their hospitality any longer. The Dodsons were insistent, however, and the argument ended by his consenting to stay until after his interview with Dean.

As a matter of fact, in spite of his protests, he was only too pleased to remain in his present quarters. He was beginning to like his hosts. Elisha was an interesting old bird and Helen was a bright and attractive girl, good-natured and good company and with a lot of common sense. Pretty too, in a wholesome sort of way. He gave her looks but a passing thought however; the picture of Victoria Bates at that window was still in his mind, and he could not have forgotten it if he had wished—which he most distinctly did not.

After breakfast he and Dodson walked up to the Four Corners. Elisha limped briskly along beside him, pointing out places of interest and crowing delightedly over the disappointment of the South Side gang. On the grass plot at the Bayport road side of the First Meeting House the two old cannon were proudly enthroned on their mountings and a small crowd of exultant citizens, both sexes and all ages, was gathered about them. It was no longer raining, although the sky was gray and overcast.

In the crowd Franklin recognized several of his early morning associates, Manasseh Eldredge among them. Mr. Eldredge was obviously the hero of the day and, just as obviously, he did not shrink from the spotlight. He was garbed in a checked suit which was a celebration in itself and his Ascot tie sported a horseshoe pin. He espied Dodson as the latter limped toward him and recognized his companion.

“Why, hello, there!” he exclaimed, bustling over to meet them. “Well, ’Lish, we kind of got ahead of ’em—what? Oh, that you, young fellow! Heard the salute, I presume likely? Cal’late they heard it down to the South Side; we meant they should. Ho, ho! Say, ’Lish, this young chap gave the Corners a helpin’ hand last night. Told you about it, didn’t he?”

“You bet he did!” Elisha waxed gleefully enthusiastic over his guest’s share in the rescue of the cannon. Manasseh listened rather absently and interrupted before the finish.

“Oh, yes, yes,” he broke in, with a condescending wave of the hand, “he helped us considerable, but we’d have pulled it off anyhow. When I set out to do a thing it most generally gets done. ’Twas Victoria that turned the trick for us, really. She’s a smart one; wouldn’t be her old man’s daughter if she wasn’t. How long you down for, Mr.—er—”

“Cobb,” prompted Elisha.

“Yes, Cobb, that’s right. Now who did I hear talkin’ about somebody named Cobb lately? Cap’n Gideon, was it? Or Joe Dean? Oh, well, don’t make any difference; wouldn’t be you they was talkin’ about, of course. Cal’latin’ to stay in Wellmouth a spell, Mr. Cobb?”

“Not long, probably.”

“Better come to the ball at the town hall to-night, if you haven’t got anything ’special to do. Bridgewater Silver Cornet Band is comin’ down, and ’Lish’ll tell you that means music. Lucky to get that band, we were. There was two or three other towns after ’em, but I straightened it out. I’ve got a little pull up to Bridgewater; done a few favors around election time for some of the boys, you understand,” with a wink.

“Better not miss that ball, Cobb,” he added. “If you like dancin’ and want to know some of the right girls, hunt me up and I’ll see you’re fixed. If I ain’t there when you first come don’t worry. I’ve got a date with Judge Dean, but it ain’t liable to keep me long.”

He was moving off but Elisha’s exclamation detained him.

“Judge Dean! Why, I thought the judge was over to Ostable with his niece’s folks.”

“Eh? So he is. Planned to stay till to-morrow mornin’, but I had a telegram from him sayin’ he’d be back this afternoon and wanted to see me after supper to-night. I don’t know what for; heard somethin’ new in the politics way, I shouldn’t wonder.”

He strolled away biting the end from a fat cigar. Franklin Cobb shook his head.

“I’ll bet that fellow takes off his hat to himself every time he looks in a mirror,” he observed. “Eh? What’s the matter?”

Elisha was excited.

“Why, Mr. Cobb!” he cried. “Didn’t you hear what he said? That about Judge Dean? Accordin’ to him the judge will be here this afternoon. If that’s so you won’t have to wait till to-morrow to see him.”