A Cavalier O'erthrown
The house party departed and Buck Hill settled into normalcy. Jeff had
tried very hard to be what Mildred had expected him to be for the last
few days. He had even said tender nothings to Jean Roland and
expressed an eager desire to see her in Louisville, where she was to
visit before returning to Detroit. So flattering was his manner that
the girl forgave him for his inattention during her stay at Buck Hill
and was all smiles at the parting.
The guests who did not leave by automobile took the noon trolley to
Louisville. Among the latter was Tom Harbison. Mildred had rather
hoped he would stay over Sunday at Buck Hill. He pleaded an
engagement, however, but with melting eyes declared he would soon be
back.
Jeff heaved a great sigh of relief when they were all gone, especially
Miss Jean Roland. What a nuisance black-headed girls were, anyhow! He
began to wonder what Judith was doing. Was she wearied after the ball?
Was she on the road in her little blue car selling toilet articles?
Would she feed the motormen and conductors, in spite of having been up
until morning? Of course she would! Judith was not the kind of girl to
fail in an undertaking and to let men go hungry.
"Half past five! She furnishes dinner for the men on the six-thirty. I
wonder what she is giving them to-day?" Jeff smiled when he remembered
how Judith had satisfied Nan's impertinent curiosity concerning what
was in her basket. "I've a great mind to find out. Foolishness! I'll
do nothing of the sort." The young man tried to lose himself in the
intricate plot of a detective story but he had to confess he was not
half so much interested in the outcome of the tale as he was in what
Judith was to carry in her basket.
"I'll go help her lift the heavy load on the trolley," he decided,
slinging aside the stupid book and starting across the meadows to the
trolley station. He must traverse the broad acres of Buck Hill to the
dividing line of Judith's mother's farm, then through a swampy creek
bottom, up a hill to the grove of old beech trees, and then down to
the trolley track.
"Can't make it! There's the whistle blowing for the next station," he
said as he reached the grove. He stopped and, leaning against the
smooth trunk of a great beech, looked out across the fields. There was
Judith in a blue dress, standing on the little platform, a cooler of
buttermilk in one hand, swinging it as before as a signal to the
approaching trolley. She wore no hat and her hair shone like spun
gold.
"I'll wait here for her and maybe I can persuade her to sit down a
minute and talk to me." Lazily he settled himself on a mossy bank,
leaning against the friendly trunk.
The trolley car stopped. Eager hands were ready to receive the heavy
cooler and laden basket. Only one passenger--a man--alighted and then
the car sped on. Judith picked up the basket of empty dishes and milk
can that had been deposited on the platform and turned to follow the
path homeward. Jeff sprang to his feet, meaning to hasten to her and
relieve her of her burden, when his intention was changed by seeing
the man who had just alighted from the trolley walk quickly to her
side.
The beech grove was too far off for Jeff to hear what was said but he
could plainly see the couple, although not discernible to them because
of the dense shade of the beeches. It was a shock to him to recognize
the man as Tom Harbison. What was he doing back again when he had
told Mildred he had an important engagement? Was his engagement with
Judith Buck? She had not looked as though she expected anyone as she
stood swinging her cooler. But then one can never tell. Young men
don't go gallivanting after girls unless they are encouraged. On the
other hand, what encouragement had Judith given him, Jeff Bucknor?
None!
However, Tom Harbison certainly had no right to play fast and loose
with his sister, Mildred. Jeff tried to persuade himself that his
anger against Tom was solely the righteous anger of a brother.
Judith and her cavalier followed the path that led directly to the
beech grove. Jeff Bucknor again seated himself on the mossy bank and
watched their approach. He was totally unconscious of his own
invisibility. Again he felt extreme annoyance with Tom Harbison
because of his protecting manner. Anyone might have surmised the
fields were full of raging bulls, vicious rams or wild boars, judging
from Tom's solicitude for Judith's safety. Tenderly he assisted the
active girl up the hill. Just as they got within earshot of Jeff, who
was endeavoring to calm himself sufficiently to meet the couple with
some appearance of equanimity, Judith paused.
"Now, Mr. Harbison, I appreciate very much your kindness in wishing to
help me with this basket of dishes, which is not at all heavy, but I
think you had much better go directly to your friends at Buck Hill.
That path to the left will take you through the gap and over the
meadow. I go to the right."
"Ah, but I am not going to Buck Hill this evening. I came back to
Ryeville only to see you. I told you, my beauty, that I was going to.
Don't you remember?"
"I am not your beauty and I do not remember."
"Well, I did and I have and you are."
"Maybe you have but I am not. I bid you good evening, Mr. Harbison.
Give me my basket."
"No, no! Not so fast! You don't understand, my dearest girl. I really
have come up here to see you and a fellow doesn't take that beastly
ride twice in one day without some reward. Come on, like the peach
that you resemble, and sit down here in this grove of trees with me. I
tell you, honey, I'm loving you good and right."
"Nonsense! You don't know me and besides I have no time to sit down
as I have two more trolley cars to meet with hot suppers for the
motormen. Give me my basket! I must hurry home. I cannot let my
customers go hungry."
"But I am hungry for love," cried Tom, seizing the hand Judith had
stretched out for her basket. In the other hand she carried the empty
milk can. Up to this time the girl had been half laughing. She was
evidently amused by the gallantries of Tom and had met his advances
with badinage, thinking he was in jest. However, when he grasped her
hand and attempted to draw her towards him, she grew angry.
"Let me go, Mr. Harbison. You are forgetting yourself."
"I am not forgetting myself. I am just remembering myself. Here I have
been in the same neighborhood with you for days and never once have I
had so much as a kiss. Please! Please!" He caught the resisting Judith
to him.
Tom was making a fool of himself and no doubt he would have realized
it had he known that another man was hearing his pleading. Jeff on the
other hand was so conscious of himself that he had not realized, until
Harbison plunged into the frantic love-making, that the couple were
not aware of his presence. Under the circumstances, what should he do?
He certainly could not beat up a man for asking a beautiful girl to
sit down in the shade of a beech tree with him, especially since he
had meant to do that very thing himself had not Tom got there ahead of
him. Should he make his presence known? Did Judith need his help?
The scene progressed so rapidly that before Jeff could make up his
mind exactly what he should do Judith raised her empty milk can and
gave the persistent Tom such a whack on the side of his head that the
cavalier dropped the basket of china and, losing his balance, fell and
rolled down the hill.
Evidently Judith did not need anyone's help. Tom picked himself up
ruefully. Without a word he retraced the path he had so blithely taken
a moment before and, hearing the outgoing trolley whistling for the
station, he speeded up and boarded the car for Louisville.
Then Judith proceeded to sit down by her basket of broken china and
burst into tears.
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" cried Jeff, no longer uncertain of what he
should do. "Don't! Please don't! I wish I had wrung his neck."
"You! Where did you come from?" gasped Judith. "I didn't see you. You
needn't think I am crying because--because--"
"Because you have been insulted?"
"No. I'm just so miserable because last night I was so happy, and all
day I have been happy and now I am not." She looked like a little girl
who had just found out her doll was stuffed with sawdust.
"Look at my dishes! As long as they had to be broken I wish I might
have had the pleasure of hitting that man with them instead of making
a dent in my perfectly good milk cooler." She laughed and began
picking up the pieces of china.
Was this the staid young lawyer who had determined to see no more of
this red-haired girl--to nip in the bud any feeling he might have
developed for her? Was this the same man, running down dale and up
hill with a basket of broken china on his arm, while the red-haired
girl chased on ahead with an empty milk can, running to make up for
lost time and not be late with the motormen's supper? He must wait and
help Judith carry the basket. She had no time to wrangle with him
about whether he should or should not wait. Supper was cooked but it
must be packed properly and the finishing touches put to it. Mrs. Buck
was wandering around the kitchen making futile attempts to help.
Jeff, who was sitting outside on a bench under the syringa bushes,
could hear her querulous drawl and Judith's quick, good-natured
replies.
"Never mind the china, Mumsy. Some of the pieces can be used as soap
dishes and some maybe we can mend. I'll tell you all about how it
happened some day but now I must hurry. There's a young man waiting in
the back yard to help me carry my basket. If you look out the side
window you can see who it is, but don't let him see you peeping."
Then there was the mad race back to the station. There was no time or
breath for talk. They reached the platform several minutes before the
seven o'clock trolley.
"Heavens! I came mighty near forgetting what I came all the way from
Buck Hill to find out," declared Jeff.
"And what was that?"
"I got to wondering what you would have in your baskets this
evening."
"Ham croquettes, buttered beets, potato salad and hot muffins.
Blackberry dumpling for dessert!" Judith smiled, as she chanted the
menu.