Chapter X
In the meantime, the throng of neighbors Sylvia had precipitately leftin the village post office had received their mail and reached thatanticipated interval for gossip which never failed to be stimulating.
Clustered about the counter loitered the standbys.
Zenas Henry was speaking:
"A mighty fine little girl--that Sylvia," commented he. "A high stepper!We'd oughter tie her down to Wilton so'st she won't go back West. She'stoo pretty to be spared from the Cape."
"I figger you'd have trouble keepin' her here," rejoined SilasNickerson, the postmaster, sauntering out from his wicker cage. "She'sgot a beau in her home town. Had a letter an' a box of candy from himtoday. Same writin' an' same postmark on both of 'em, I noticed. Sheblushed red as a peony when I passed 'em out to her."
"Didn't by any chance see the name, did you, Silas?" Eleazer Crockerinquired.
"Wal, come to think of it, it did catch my eye. You know how such thingswill. Fuller, he's called. Horatio Fuller."
"Horatio Fuller, eh?" Eleazer repeated. "Kinder high soundin'. Wonderwho he is? From Alton City, you say."
Silas nodded.
"That was the address."
"Never heard of the place," Captain Benjamin Todd put in.
"That don't in no way prevent its existin', Ben," answered Zenas Henrywith his customary drawl.
"If we had a map handy we might look it up," suggested Captain PhineasTaylor. "I'd like to see just where it's located."
"I tried doin' that," the postmaster admitted. "I got out my map, butthe place warn't on it."
"No wonder I never heard of it!" blustered Benjamin Todd.
"That don't prove nothin', Benjamin," his friend Phineas Taylorexpostulated. "Silas's map was drawed before the flood. Even Wiltonain't on it."
"It ain't?"
A simultaneous gasp rose from the assembly.
"Then all I can say is it's a darn poor map," Enoch Morton sniffed. "Amap that ain't got Wilton on it might as well be burned. 'Tain't worthbotherin' with."
"It's all the map I've got," Silas apologized.
"You'd oughter ask the government for another. Why don't you write toWashington, explainin' that neither Wilton nor Alton City are on thisone an' ask 'em for a better one?"
"'Fore you start complainin', you might make sure Belleport's down,"suggested Lemuel Gill, a resident of the adjoining village. "Last Iknew, that warn't on this map, neither."
"'Twarn't?"
"Who makes these maps, I wonder?" bristled Zenas Henry. "Some numskullwho ain't traveled none, I'll bet a hat. Why don't he go round an'see what places there is 'fore he starts map-makin'? Why, any one ofus knows more 'bout the job already than he does. We know there'sBelleport, an' Wilton, an' Alton City."
"Bet you couldn't tell what state Alton City is in, though, ZenasHenry," Silas challenged.
"Alton City? Let me think! Alton City!" Thoughtfully he stroked hischin. "'Tain't my business to know where 'tis," he presently sputtered."If everybody knew where all the blasted places in the country were,what use would they have for maps? 'Twould put the map-makin' folksclean out of business."
"If map-makers don't know where Wilton an' Belleport are they'd betterbe out of business, in my opinion," countered Benjamin Todd. "Say,Ephraim," he exclaimed, inspired by a bright idea, "you're the mailcarrier. You'd oughter be primed on the location of places. Where'sAlton City?"
"Alton City? Hanged if I know. To hear you talk, anybody'd think 'twasmy job to tote round the country deliverin' letters in person at thedoors of every house in the United States."
"But you must have some notion 'bout geography. Ain't you got no pocketatlas nor nothin'?"
"I may have a small map somewheres; I carry most everything," Ephraimgrinned. With deliberation, he began to disgorge upon the counter thecontents of his many pockets.
There was a tangle of pink string; two stumpy pencils without points;a fragment of fish-line; a soiled scrap of court-plaster; a boxof matches; a plug of tobacco; a red bandanna handkerchief; threecough-drops, moist and sticky; several screws; a worn tube of paste; ajack-knife.
"My soul, Eph!" ejaculated Zenas Henry. "You're a reg'lar travelin' junkshop, ain't you?"
"I have to have things by me."
"Was you Robinson Crusoe, you'd never have call for any such mess oftruck as this. Where's the map?"
"Must be in my breast pocket," replied the mail-carrier, thrusting hishand inside his pea-coat. "My eye! If I ain't forgot that telegram!" heabruptly exclaimed. "The station-master at Sawyer Falls gave it to mewhen he handed out the mail. It clean went out of my mind."
"A telegram!" came in chorus from his audience. "Who for?"
"It's for that chap Heath who's stayin' over at The Widder's."
"Hadn't you been wool-gatherin' you might 'a' given it to Sylvia to takeback with her. She was here only a little while ago," Silas Nickersonsaid.
"I know it."
"S'pose I was to take it over," Elisha Winslow suggested eagerly. "I'mwillin' to."
"Fur's that goes, I can carry it," Captain Phineas Taylor piped.
"Give it to me, Eph, an' I'll see it's landed there within half anhour," proposed Benjamin Todd, elbowing his way forward.
"Now there's no use in all you fellers volunteerin'," Eleazer Crockerasserted. "I'm goin' straight over to Marcia's, as it happens, soon'sI've et my dinner, an' I'll take the telegram."
With an air of authority, he held out his hand.
The crowd fell back.
Yet notwithstanding their acquiescence, Zenas Henry, not to be awed intosubjection, had the temerity to add:
"Remember, though, Eleazer, you ain't to go off the mainland withoutleavin' the key to the engine-house where we can get it. We've nohankerin' to be burnt alive while you're philanderin' at The Widder's."
"Hang it on the peg inside Benjamin Todd's fish shanty as you go by,"called another voice.
"I'll do that," Eleazer agreed as he pocketed the telegram.
* * * * *
Early afternoon found Marcia alone in the Homestead sitting-room.
A driftwood fire flickered upon the hearth, for although spring was onthe way, the large, high-studded rooms were not yet entirely free ofwinter's chill and dampness.
Sylvia had gone up the beach. Stanley Heath was asleep; and at last thedelicious interval of solitude which the woman coveted was here.
The basket at her elbow overflowed with mending, but she had not yettaken up her needle.
Instead she sat motionless before the blaze, dreamily watching the vividblues and greens as they flared up into the glow of the flame there toblend with its splendor, and afterwards melt into embers of scarlet andorange.
She could not work.
Try as she would, her mind wandered off into by-ways too fascinatingto be resisted--by-ways which no matter how remote their windings,invariably led her back to Stanley Heath.
In retrospect she lived over again every incident, every word, everylook that had passed between them until she came to the barrier of theunknown which her fancy bridged with intricate rainbow-hued imaginings.
While the fire crackled and flashes of sapphire and emerald shot up anddied away, she twisted possible explanations this way and that and wouldcontentedly have continued the pastime had not Eleazer Crocker knockedat the door.
Eleazer could not have chosen a more inopportune moment to drag her backto earth.
With a frown and a deep sigh, Marcia went reluctantly to let him in.
"Wal, now ain't it nice to find you by yourself!" was his greeting. "Thekitchen looks cozy as can be. Spring may be comin' but for all that coolweather still hangs on. Where was you settin'?"
"I was in the front room, but perhaps we better drop down here so I canlisten in case Mr. Heath should call."
"Anywhere you say. Wherever you are suits me."
"I'll just run in and put the screen round the fire and get my mending,"Marcia replied a trifle u
neasily.
"Let me go."
"No, indeed. You wait here. I'll be right back."
Left to himself, Eleazer smiled a smile of satisfaction.
The kitchen was warm, Marcia was alone and apparently not busy. Couldcircumstances be more propitious? Fortune certainly was with him. Today,this very afternoon, he would take his future in his hands and put toher the question he had so often determined to put.
Times without number he had mentally rehearsed what he meant to say.In fact he habitually fell into this intriguing dialogue whenever hehad nothing else to occupy him. It commenced with a few preliminaryobservations concerning the weather, the springtime, the birds--thebirds who would soon be mating. That was the keynote--mating. The restfollowed very naturally. It was, Eleazer felt, a neat, in fact quite apoetic proposal.
He cleared his throat in preparation.
When Marcia came back, he was primed and ready to begin his declaration.
"Weather's been fine, ain't it?" he started out.
Marcia took up her sewing.
"Do you think so?" questioned she, raising her brows. "Seems to me we'vehad lots of rain and fog."
"Wal, yes, now you mention it I do recall a few thick days. Still,spring is comin'."
"I'd like to shingle the south ell this spring," announced Marcia,giving a disconcertingly practical twist to the conversation. "How manyshingles do you suppose it would take?"
Eleazer frowned.
The dialogue was not proceeding along the lines he had mapped out.
Determined to fetter it and bring it back into the prescribed channels,he answered:
"I'd have to reckon that out. It's a good notion, though, to make theell tight. That's what the birds are doin'."
Astonished, Marcia glanced up from her work.
"I mean," floundered on Eleazer, "they're gettin' their nests built an'kinder pickin' out their mates. Pickin' the right mate's quite a job forsome folks."
He saw Marcia turn scarlet. Mercy! What a slip! She thought he wastwitting her about Jason.
"What I set out to say was that when you get the wrong mate you knowit," he countered hastily.
No sooner, however, were the words out of his mouth than he saw theywere no better.
Perhaps it would be well to abandon the mating question and start on anew tack. He had tried the spring. Suppose he took summer as his theme?
"Summer's a nice season, ain't it?" ventured he.
"Yes, although I never enjoy it as much as the other months. I don'tlike the heat and I detest the summer boarders."
Eleazer swallowed hard. He would better have clung to the spring. He sawthat now. He would retrace his steps.
"Spring is nice," he agreed. "With the birds a-buildin' their nests,an'--"
At last he was back on familiar ground.
"I did not realize you were so much interested in birds, Eleazer,"Marcia exclaimed. "I have a fine bird book I must lend you. It's in theother room. I'll fetch it."
Springing up, she disappeared.
"Drat it!" murmured Eleazer. "Could anything be more exasperatin'?An' me neither knowin' nor carin' a hang whether a bird's a robin ora sparrow. Just when I was gettin' the way paved so nice, too." Hewandered to the window. "Oh, heavens, who's this comin'? If it ain't'Lish Winslow! Now what in thunder does he want, buttin' in? He'swalkin' like as if the evil one was at his heels."
Eleazer threw open the door.
Before he could speak, however, Elisha puffing and out of breath bawled:
"Where in the name of goodness did you put the engine-house key,Eleazer? Whipple's hen house is afire an' we've hunted high an' low forit."
Eleazer purpled.
"My soul an' body," he gasped. "I clean forgot to leave it. Must be herein my pocket."
Wildly he began to search.
"You're a fine head of the fire department, you are!" roared Elisha. "Ifyou'd put your mind on town business 'stead of on Marcia Howe, we'd allbe better off. Traipsing over here to see her in the middle of the day,palmin' off that telegram as an excuse--"
If Eleazer had been purple before, he was livid now.
"Well, you better go straight back to the village fast as you can legit an' carry the key with you," went on the accuser. "Don't wait fornothin'. I'll explain matters to Marcia."
"But I've got to see her. I've got to speak to her private," protestedthe wretched official.
"Private? Ain't you been talkin' to her private an' hour or more? Whatelse have you got to say to her?"
"I want to give her somethin'."
"Give it to me. I'll hand it to her."
Elisha's extended palm was not to be ignored.
"This--this--telegram," quavered Eleazer. "I ain't had a chance to--"
"Do you mean to say you ain't given her that telegram yet?"
"I was intendin' to. I was just about to when--"
"Wal, of all the--" words failed Elisha. "Here, give it to me," hecommanded. "I can be depended on to deliver messages if you can't. I'llsee she has it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is to hoofit to town quick's ever you can. If the whole place ain't burned tothe ground an' if they don't tar an' feather you when you put in yourappearance, you'll be lucky."
"Ain't you comin'?"
"I? No. Fire's ain't in my line. Long's Marcia's here by herself an'ain't busy, I'm goin' to pay her a call," Elisha grinned. "I've got todeliver the telegram."
"Still, you don't need to stay," pleaded Eleazer, facing his triumphantrival.
"Mebbe I do," was Elisha's hectoring retort. "Mebbe this is the verytime for me to linger behind. The coast's clear. Why shouldn't I stay?"
"You might be needed at the fire."
"I shan't be," was the calm reply. "Not unless there's somethin'criminal about it."
"It might be arson."
"I'll take a chance on it startin' from Dan Whipple's cigarette. In facthe owned as much. Dan's terrible careless with his cigarettes. Now, hopalong, Eleazer, else the whole conflagration will be out 'fore you getthere."
The unlucky fire-chief had no choice.
"Drat it!" raged he, as he strode off across the sand. "Drat it! Ain'tthat just my luck!"
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