CHAPTER XXII
There wasn't anything for us fellows to do but to go through with thething now. We couldn't very well duck out and then ever show our facesagain in Wicksville. So right after supper we went down and opened upthe hall where the food show was, and got things ready for the massacre.I kind of wished the times that Mark played games about would come backfor a while. I mean when knights and such-like fellows went around withcast-iron nightgowns on so that you couldn't hurt them without you foundthe combination to the safe and got the door open. That's what Markcalls a mixed metaphor. It says what I mean, so I don't care what hecalls it. Anyhow, I don't believe he knows what he's talking about.
Well, about seven o'clock the crowd began to come. They came in a jam.There was to be a program, and at the end of it the announcement was tobe made who had won the contest. The program started up at eighto'clock, and meanwhile all of us but Mark had been back at the _Trumpet_office, helping get out the paper. That was to be part of the evening'sexcitement, too.
Pretty soon folks began to get tired of the program and began to yellfor the decision of the contest. It kept getting louder and louder, tillMark judged it was best to let them have it.
"I'll d-do it," says he. "I'm the one that t-thought it up, so I'll makethe announcement and t-take what's comin'. You fellers better skip."
"Nix," I says. "We're goin' to be right with you."
"What you git we git," says Plunk.
We listened and could hear the folks stamping their feet and clappingand yelling.
"Who won? Who won?" they started to yell over and over.
"Here goes," says Mark, and out he went. We stuck right to his heels.The first thing I noticed, even in all that crowd, was Rock standingover at one side, and with a hand on his shoulder was the big man thatwe saw getting off the train. I nudged Plunk, and _he_ looked, and Rocksaw us and waved his hand.
Mark began. He made a regular speech, and it kept getting longer andlonger, because he hated to come to the point and announce that nobodyhad won and that it was a tie. But he had to at last, because folksbegan to holler again.
Finally he says, "T-this has been a wonderful contest, ladies andgentlemen. There hain't ever been sich a contest in Wicksville, and--ifI got anything to d-d-do with it--there'll never be another." I believed_that_ all right.
"The l-ladies," says he, "has proved some-thin'. They have p-proved thatnobody in the world kin beat the wimmin of Wicksville--not even thewimmin of Wicksville themselves." He stopped and looked around, andthough he was pretty uncertain in his mind, he grinned jest as calm as acabbage.
"The number of subscriptions got by the Home Culturers," says he, "isfour hunderd and f-f-forty-six."
There was yells and stamping from the Home Culturers.
"The n-number of subscriptions got by the Lit'ry Circlers is fourhunderd and f-f-forty-six," says he.
There was yells and stamping, but all of a sudden they stopped, andsomebody yelled, "What's that?"
"It's a tie," says Mark. "B-both got the s-same number."
For a minute folks jest looked at one another, and then Mrs. Strubberand Mrs. Bobbin jumped to their feet and began talking at once. I couldcatch sich words as "cheat," and "put-up job," and "crooked," and likethat.
"L-ladies," says Mark, "you've kept count of how many subscriptions yougot, hain't you?"
"Yes," says both of 'em.
"What's your count, Mrs. Strubber?" says he.
"We got the number you said, but _they_ never did. Our number is right.But them wimmin--why, we must 'a' beat 'em by fifty."
"Mis' Bobbin," says Mark, "how do you make your c-count?"
"We make it same as yourn for us," says she, "but them Lit'ry Circlersdidn't come within ninety of us. I _know_," says she.
"L-ladies and gentlemen," says Mark, "both ladies says their c-countagrees with mine. Both m-makes their n-number f-four hunderd andf-f-forty-six. I guess that shows this contest was on the s-square. Ifit wasn't d'you think I'd 'a' dared stand up here and announce it was atie?"
"Don't see how you dared, anyhow," yelled Uncle Ike Bond. "I wouldn't'a' done it for a farm."
"What we goin' to do?" says Mrs. Strubber. "We can't leave this hereundecided now. The town wouldn't never git over it. Somebody got to bethe champeen."
"You bet," says Mrs. Bobbin, "and the Home Culturers has got to be it. Iguess our husbands hain't goin' to stand around and let us git done outof our rights."
"I guess ourn hain't either," says Mrs. Strubber, and right there itsure looked like the furniture was going to get busted.
Then Mark got an idea.
"L-ladies," says he, "I got a way out of it. T-there's a man here thathain't subscribed. Git him up here, and let them two clubs argue himinto t-takin' a subscription, and the side that gits him wins."
They thought that over a minute, and then agreed.
"Who's the man?" says all of them at once.
"Uncle Ike Bond," says Mark, with a little grin. "He's just got homefrom a visit."
"Uncle Ike! ... Uncle Ike!" yelled everybody, and started to push theold 'bus-driver to the front.
"Hey!" says he. "Hey, Mark Tidd, what I ever done to you I should be gotinto this? I hain't goin' to. No, siree. You don't git _me_ decidin' nosich fight. I got respect for my skin. If I was to decide this here,why, I'd have to lick every husband on the side I was decidin' ag'in'.Not that I can't do it--but I hain't as spry and eager as I was once.No, siree," says he, and he made a jump sideways, and scrambled up ontothe window-sill, with fifty folks grabbing after him, and out he jumped.Well, that finished _that_.
Mark was laughing inside like everything. "There's another m-man here,"says he. "He's big enough so's nobody's husband'll be anxious tot-t-tackle him. He's _doggone_ big," says Mark, "and t-there he stands.Mr. Armitage is his n-name," says Mark.
_Armitage!_
You could have knocked me galley-west with a feather. I seen it all in aminute.
"Mr. Armitage," says Mark, "won't you s-s-step forward and--"
"Risk my life?" finishes up the big man that was standing by Rock."Why," says he, "I'll step forward and say something, and when I getthrough maybe you ladies will be willing to let things stand as theyare--and glad to."
He came surging up forward, and stood there, big and quiet, looking downon everybody.
"First," says he, "I want to tell you something about myself." It wasfunny, but they quieted right down and listened. Not a yell or a holler.
"After that," says he, "I want to read you a piece in the Wicksville_Trumpet_, the best country paper in America," says he, and at that Markand us kids swelled all up.
"I'm a happy man," says he, "because, after a dozen years, I've got myson back again. In that dozen years," he says, "I've been working andfighting and starving and risking death for my son, but maybe it wouldhave been better if I'd stayed home and got a job and been right by hisside. But there was a time when I was sore in my heart because hismother died." He stopped just a second. Then he went on. "I couldn'tbear to stay still, so I put my little son in a school and went off toAlaska. I thought I'd find gold there, but I didn't find enough. Afterthat I went to South America and to Africa and to China, and all overthe world, always keeping my son in schools, and not seeing him norscarcely ever writing to him. But I loved him just the same--like afather ought to. But I was set on coming home to him rich, so he'd beproud of me. That was wrong. I know it now. He'd have been proud of meanyhow, because he's that kind. Well, I thought I was dying, and sent afriend to take my son to a man that should have looked after him--andthat man died, but I got well. Today I came back and found my son, andsaw him for the first time since he was in dresses. I found he had madefriends, four friends, who had done for him more than I had ever done.These friends had worked for him. These friends had found him alone in abig house, practically a prisoner, not knowing who he was or why he wasthere. My boy was in a bad mix-up, I can tell you. And I was far away.Well, these four friends, just out of the goodness
of their hearts, wentto work, and solved the mystery that was surrounding my son, and provedwho he was, and have put him in the way of being heir to a great deal ofmoney. Not that _that_ matters now, for I found my mine at last and haveten times as much as Mr. Wigglesworth--"
He stopped. "But here's to-day's _Trumpet_. Let me read to you the realstory. Then I want to say to you ladies that this contest has come outjust the way it should have. It has proved that neither side is betterthan the other. It has proved that Wicksville ought to be proud of you,and that you ought to be so proud of each other that you'd join togetherand not be Home Culturers or Literary Circlers, but just one bigclub--The Wicksville Women's Club, with everybody a member and workinghard for the benefit of the town and of everybody in it."
Then he read, slow and emphatic, the story of Rock. He read how we hadfound him, and about all we had done, and about the paper Mr.Wigglesworth left, and about how we had got the paper. And--this wasnews to all of us but Mark--that Rock was Mr. Wigglesworth's grandson,and Rock's mother was Mr. Wigglesworth's daughter, who had married Mr.Armitage against her father's will, and he wouldn't ever have anythingto do with her again.
Well, people's eyes almost popped out of their heads when they heardwhat had been going on right under their heads. When Mr. Armitage wasdone reading he laid his hand on Mark's shoulder and says, "Here's theboy that puzzled it out."
"Binney and Plunk and Tallow did as m-m-much as me," says Mark.
"Yes," says Mr. Armitage, turning to us, "and I want to thank them,publicly, too. Four of the squarest, nerviest, cleverest boys I eversaw."
"And now," says he, "what do you ladies think? Won't it be better tohave one big club, working for the good of everybody, than two clubspulling against each other?"
Mrs. Strubber looked at Mrs. Bobbin and Mrs. Bobbin looked back;then--and there was streaks down their faces where the tears had beenrunning--they got up all at once and walked toward each other and shookhands.
That ended _that_.
But us fellows had a hard time getting away. Everybody wanted to shakehands and have us tell about it, and taffy us, but we did wrigglethrough, with Rock and his father following us, and sneaked to theoffice. And there we had a regular reunion. I tell you Mr. Armitage wasa fine man, and he had a mess of adventure stories to tell that justlifted the hair off from your head.
Best of it is he's going to live here with Rock on the Wigglesworthplace.
We talked a long time, and then went home to bed.
Mark Tidd, Editor Page 22
