A DAY TO REMEMBER
“Great Cicero, is it possible we have shot the cook’s pocketbook to
pieces!” murmured Dick, who had come up in time to hear the conversation.
“Shoot it! Did you shoot at my pocketbook?” demanded Sarah.
“We didn’t shoot at it, Sarah,” answered Sam. “I stuffed that paper in
the cannon for wadding.”
“What, with my pocketbook in it!” screamed the cook. “Oh, dear! Was ever
there such boys!”
“I didn’t know there was anything in the paper. It looked all crumpled
up.”
“It was the best paper I could find and I thought it would do,” groaned
Sarah. “Oh, dear, what am I to do? Where is the pocketbook now?”
“Blown to kingdom come, I reckon,” murmured the youngest Rover. “But
never mind, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“The pocketbook couldn’t have been a very large one,” said Tom, who had
come up to learn the cause of the excitement in the kitchen.
“It wasn’t—it was quite small. My sister sent it to me from Chicago, for
a birthday present.”
“What did you have in it?” asked Sam anxiously.
“I had four dollars in it in bills, and ten of those new shiny cents, and
a ten-cent piece, and a sample of dress goods, and a slip of paper with a
new way on it to make grape jelly, and some pills for the headache, and a
motto verse, and—and I don’t know what else.”
“Well, that’s enough,” came from Tom. “No wonder the bees kicked at
having all that fired at ’em.”
“I’ll give you back the money, Sarah, and get you a new pocketbook,” said
Sam. “I’m awfully sorry it happened.”
“Let’s look for the pocketbook,” suggested Dick, and this was done, the
boys taking good care, while on the search, to keep out of the range of
the bees. All they could find in the orchard were two of the cent pieces
and part of the metal clasp of the pocketbook—the rest had disappeared.
“Well, let us be thankful that we didn’t blow the cannon apart, or hit
somebody with that charge,” said Dick.
Later the cannon was fired off with more care. It certainly made a loud
noise, and a farmer, driving past, said he had heard it away down at Oak
Run.
“A feller down there told me he guessed the quarry men were blastin’,” he
said. “But I said ’twas a cannon. She kin go some, can’t she!” And he
shook his head grimly as he drove on.
The boys and girls spent the morning in firing off the cannon and in
shooting off some firecrackers. Mrs. Rover served an elaborate dinner,
and had the dining room trimmed in red, white and blue flowers in honor
of the national birthday.
“Do you remember how we spent last Fourth,” said Tom, when the meal was
about over.
“Indeed I do!” cried Nellie. “Don’t you remember that big imitation
cannon cracker you set off on the dining room table of the yacht and how
it covered all of us with confetti.”
“Yes, and how Hans Mueller slid under the table in fright!” added Dick;
and then all laughed heartily over an affair that I have already
described in detail in “The Rover Boys on Treasure Isle.”
“Dear old Hans!” murmured Tom. “I’d like first rate to see him this
summer.”
“Let us ask him to the farm for a week,” suggested Sam.
“All right, we will, along with Fred Garrison,” answered Dick.
During the afternoon the boys and girls played croquet and took a short
ride in the touring car, and had ice-cream and cake served to them under
the trees by Aleck Pop, who wore his waiter outfit for the occasion. Then
they sat around until it was dark, and after supper the boys brought
forth the fireworks.
“Now, be careful,” warned both their father and their uncle.
“We will be!” they cried, and set off the pieces from a field where they
could not possibly do harm. The girls and the ladies, as well as the men,
watched proceedings with interest.
“Oh, how grand!” cried Dora, as the rockets curved gracefully through the
air.
“Beautiful!” murmured Grace.
“I could look at fireworks all night!” declared Nellie.
The fireworks came to an end with a set piece called Uncle Sam. It fizzed
and flared brightly, showing the well-known face of the old man and the
big hat. Then Tom commenced to pull a wire and Uncle Sam took his hat off
and put it on.
“Oh, how cute!” cried Grace.
“Last act!” cried Tom, and set fire to a slow match that was near.
Presently some flower pots commenced to send up a golden shower, and
then, from a wire between two trees there blazed forth the words “Good
Night.”
“Well, that was very nice indeed!” was Mrs. Stanhope’s comment.
“As nice an exhibition of fireworks as I ever saw,” declared Mrs. Laning.
“Just what I say!” cried Mrs. Rover. “The boys certainly know how to get
up a show!”
After the fireworks came darkness, but neither the boys nor the girls
seemed to mind this. They paired off, and took walks around the house and
down the roadway. Perhaps a good many silly things were said, but, if so,
there was no harm in them. The only ones who were really serious were
Dick and Dora, and seeing this Tom nudged Nellie in the side.
“Looks like they were getting down to business, doesn’t it?” he observed,
dryly.
“Oh, Tom, hush, they might hear you!” she whispered.
“You’ll have Dick for a cousin-in-law some day.”
“Well, I shan’t mind.”
“How about having him for a brother-in-law, Nellie?”
At this suggestion Nellie’s face grew crimson.
“Tom Rover, you’re the limit!”
“Well, how about it?” he persisted.
“You mean if Sam should marry Grace?” she asked archly.
“Not much—although that may happen too. I mean if you should condescend
to marry such a harum-scarum chap like me.”
“Oh, Tom!” And now Nellie hid her face.
“Maybe you don’t like me, Nellie.”
“Why, Tom!”
“You know how much I like you. It’s been that way ever since we met on
the Cedarville steamer. I know I’m pretty young to talk this way, but——”
“You’ll get older, eh?”
“Yes, and I don’t want any other fellow to come around—when I’m away.”
“How about some other girl coming around when I’m away?”
“There can’t be any other girl, Nellie.”
“Are you sure?” And now Nellie looked quite in earnest.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Well then—” her voice sank very low. “There can’t be any other fellow!
There!”
“Nellie!” he cried. Then he would have caught her in his arms, but she
held him back.
“Wait, Tom. I understand, and I am very, very glad,” she said, earnestly.
“But mamma—she is a little bit old-fashioned, you know. She made both of
us—Grace and I—promise not to—to become engaged until we were twenty or
twenty-one.”
“Oh!”
“So we’ll have to wait a little longer.”
“I see. But we understand each other, don’t we, Nellie?”
“Yes, I’m sure we do.”
“And when you are old enough——”
“We’ll talk it over again,” she answered, and took his arm as if to walk
back to the others.
“All right,” he said. Then of a sudden he turned and faced her. “And is
that all?” he pleaded.
“Oh, Tom, it ought to be!” she murmured.
“But, Nellie!” he pleaded, and drew her a little closer. Then for just an
instant her head went down on his shoulder and she allowed him to kiss
her. Then they joined the others, both feeling as if they were walking on
air.
An hour later found everybody either in the house or on the veranda. Dora
sat down to the piano and the other young folks gathered around to sing
one favorite song after another, while the old folks listened. They sang
some of the Putnam Hall songs, and tried several that were popular at
Brill and at Hope.
“I like that even better than the fireworks,” murmured Mrs. Stanhope, to
Anderson Rover.
“Well, I think I do, myself, Mrs. Stanhope,” he answered. And then he
drew his rocking-chair a little closer to where the widow was sitting.
“It seems to me that Dick and Dora match it off pretty well,” he
continued, in a lower tone.
“Yes, Mr. Rover. And Dick is a fine young man—your sons are all fine
young men. I shall never forget what they have done for me and for Dora.”
“Well, they are bright lads, if I do say it myself,” answered the father,
proudly. “And let me say, too, that I think Dora is a very dear girl. I
shall be proud to take her for a daughter.”
“No prouder than I shall be to take Dick for a son, Mr. Rover.”
“I am glad to hear you say that—glad that the idea is agreeable all
around,” returned Anderson Rover.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if, some day, Nellie and Grace married your
other sons.”
“Possibly. But they are rather young yet to think of that. Dick is older,
even though they go to college together. You see, he got behind a little
at Putnam Hall because, when I was sick, he had to attend to a lot of
business for me. But he is going ahead fast now. He came out at the head
of his class.”
“So Dora told me. Oh, he will make his mark in the world, I am sure of
it.”
“If he does not, it will be his own fault. I shall give him as much of an
education as he desires, and when he wishes to go into business, or a
profession, I shall furnish him with all the money he may need. I am
going to do that for all of the boys—that is, unless the bottom should
drop out of everything and I should become poor.”
“Oh, Mr. Rover, I trust you do not anticipate anything of that sort!”
“No, at present my investments are safe. But one cannot tell what may
happen. Hard times come, banks break, railroads default on their bonds,
and a man is knocked out before he knows it. But I don’t look for those
things to happen.”
“Mr. Rover, before I leave I wish to ask your advice about that fortune
we brought home from Treasure Isle.”
“What about it?”
“Do you think I ought to invest the money, or keep it intact and wait to
see what that Tad Sobber does?”
“I should invest it, if I were you. I really can’t see how Sobber has any
claim.”
“Would you be willing to invest it for me? A large part of it really
belongs to Dora, you know. I am not much of a business woman, and I would
be glad if you would help me in the matter.”
“Certainly I will help you to invest, if you wish it,” answered Anderson
Rover.
“Can I send the money to you?”
“Yes, But wait till I send you word. I want to look over the various
offerings in securities first.”
At that moment came a call from the parlor. The young folks wanted the
old folks to come in and join in the singing, and they complied. As they
left the piazza a form that had been hiding behind some bushes nearby
slunk away. The form was that of Tad Sobber.
“Thought I’d hear something if I came here,” muttered that individual to
himself. “Going to turn the fortune over to old Rover to invest, eh? Not
much! not if I can get my hands on it!”
And then Tad Sobber disappeared down the road in the darkness.