THE WIDOW BASSETT
These developments, Major Hardee's marriage and Mr. Gott's discomfiture,
overshadowed, for the time, local interest in the depot master's house
moving. This was, in its way, rather fortunate, for those who took the
trouble to walk down to the lower end of the Boulevard were astonished
to see how very slowly the moving was progressing.
“Only one horse, Sim?” asked Captain Hiram Baker. “Only one! Why, it'll
take you forever to get through, won't it?”
“I'm afraid it'll take quite a spell,” admitted Mr. Phinney.
“Where's your other one, the white one?”
“The white horse,” said Simeon slowly, “ain't feelin' just right and
I've had to lay him off.”
“Humph! that's too bad. How does Sol act about it? He's such a hustler,
I should think--”
“Sol,” interrupted Sim, “ain't unreasonable. He understands.”
He chuckled inwardly as he said it. Captain Sol did understand. Also Mr.
Phinney himself was beginning to understand a little.
The very day on which Williams and his foreman had called on the depot
master and been dismissed so unceremoniously, that official paid a short
visit to his mover.
“Sim,” he said, the twinkle still in his eye, “his Majesty, Williams
the Conqueror, was in to see me just now and acted real peevish. He was
pretty disrespectful to you, too. Called your outfit 'one horse.' That's
a mistake, because you've got two horses at work right now. It seems a
shame to make a great man like that lie. Hadn't you better lay off one
of them horses?”
“Lay one OFF?” exclaimed Simeon. “What for? Why, we'll be slow enough,
as 'tis. With only one horse we wouldn't get through for I don't know
how long.”
“That's so,” murmured the Captain. “I s'pose with one horse you'd hardly
reach the middle of the Boulevard by--well, before the tenth of the
month. Hey?”
The tenth of the month! The TENTH! Why, it was on the tenth that that
Omaha cousin of Olive Edwards was to--Mr. Phinney began to see--to see
and to grin, slow but expansive.
“Hm-m-m!” he mused.
“Yes,” observed Captain Sol. “That white horse of yours looks sort of
ailin' to me, Sim. I think he needs a rest.”
And, sure enough, next day the white horse was pronounced unfit and
taken back to the stable. The depot master's dwelling moved, but that is
all one could say truthfully concerning its progress.
At the depot the Captain was quieter than usual. He joked with his
assistant less than had been his custom, and for the omission Issy
was duly grateful. Sometimes Captain Sol would sit for minutes without
speaking. He seemed to be thinking and to be pondering some grave
problem. When his friends, Mr. Wingate, Captain Stitt, Hiram Baker, and
the rest, dropped in on him he cheered up and was as conversational as
ever. After they had gone he relapsed into his former quiet mood.
“He acts sort of blue, to me,” declared Issy, speaking from the depths
of sensational-novel knowledge. “If he was a younger man I'd say he was
most likely in love. Ah, hum! I s'pose bein' in love does get a feller
mournful, don't it?”
Issy made this declaration to his mother only. He knew better than to
mention sentiment to male acquaintances. The latter were altogether too
likely to ask embarrassing questions.
Mr. Wingate and Captain Stitt were still in town, although their stay
was drawing to a close. One afternoon they entered the station together.
Captain Sol seemed glad to see them.
“Set down, fellers,” he ordered. “I swan I'm glad to see you. I ain't
fit company for myself these days.”
“Ain't Betsy Higgins feedin' you up to the mark?” asked Stitt. “Or is
house movin' gettin' on your vitals?”
“No,” growled the depot master, “grub's all right and so's movin',
I cal'late. I'm glad you fellers come in. What's the news to Orham,
Barzilla? How's the Old Home House boarders standin' it? Hear from
Jonadab regular, do you?”
Mr. Wingate laughed. “Nothin' much,” he said. “Jonadab's too busy
to write these days. Bein' a sport interferes with letter writing
consider'ble.”
“Sport!” exclaimed Captain Bailey. “Land of Goshen! Cap'n Jonadab is the
last one I'd call a sport.”
“That's 'cause you ain't a good judge of human nature, Bailey,” chuckled
Barzilla. “When ancient plants like Jonadab Wixon DO bloom, they're gay
old blossoms, I tell you!”
“What do you mean?” asked the depot master.
“I mean that Jonadab's been givin' me heart disease, that's what; givin'
it to me in a good many diff'rent ways, too. We opened the Old Home
House the middle of April this year, because Peter T. Brown thought we
might catch some spring trade. We did catch a little, though whether it
paid to open up so early's a question. But 'twas June 'fore Jonadab got
his disease so awful bad. However, most any time in the last part of May
the reg'lar programme of the male boarders was stirrin' him up.
“Take it of a dull day, for instance. Sky overcast and the wind aidgin'
round to the sou'east, so's you couldn't tell whether 'twould rain or
fair off; too cold to go off to the ledge cod fishin' and too hot for
billiards or bowlin'; a bunch of the younger women folks at one end
of the piazza playin' bridge; half a dozen men, includin' me and Cap'n
Jonadab, smokin' and tryin' to keep awake at t'other end; amidships a
gang of females--all 'fresh air fiends'--and mainly widows or discards
in the matrimony deal, doin' fancywork and gossip. That would be about
the usual layout.
“Conversation got to you in homeopath doses, somethin' like this:
“'Did you say “Spades”? WELL! if I'd known you were going to make us
lose our deal like that, I'd never have bridged it--not with THIS hand.'
“'Oh, Miss Gabble, have you heard what people are sayin' about--' The
rest of it whispers.
“'A--oo--OW! By George, Bill! this is dead enough, isn't it? Shall we
match for the cigars or are you too lazy?'
“Then, from away off in the stillness would come a drawn-out 'Honk!
honk!' like a wild goose with the asthma, and pretty soon up the road
would come sailin' a big red automobile, loaded to the guards with
goggles and grandeur, and whiz past the hotel in a hurricane of dust and
smell. Then all hands would set up and look interested, and Bill would
wink acrost at his chum and drawl:
“'That's the way to get over the country! Why, a horse isn't
one--two--three with that! Cap'n Wixon, I'm surprised that a sportin'
man like you hasn't bought one of those things long afore this.'
“For the next twenty minutes there wouldn't be any dullness. Jonadab
would take care of that. He'd have the floor and be givin' his opinions
of autos and them that owned and run 'em. And between the drops of his
language shower you'd see them boarders nudgin' each other and rockin'
back and forth contented and joyful.
“It always worked. No matter what time of day or night, all you had to
say was 'auto' and Cap'n Jonadab would sail up out of his chair like one
of them hot-air balloons the youngsters nowadays have on Fourth of July.
And he wouldn't come down till he was empty of remarks, nuther. You
never see a man get so red faced and eloquent.
“It wa'n't because he couldn't afford one himself. I know that's the
usual reason for them kind of ascensions, but 'twa'n't his. No, sir!
the summer hotel business has put a considerable number of dollars in
Jonadab's hands, and the said hands are like a patent rat trap, a
mighty sight easier to get into than out of. He could have bought three
automobiles if he'd wanted to, but he didn't want to. And the reason he
didn't was named Tobias Loveland and lived over to Orham.”
“I know Tobias,” interrupted Captain Bailey Stitt.
“Course you do,” continued Barzilla. “So does Sol, I guess. Well,
anyhow, Tobias and Cap'n Jonadab never did hitch. When they was boys
together at school they was always rowin' and fightin', and when they
grew up to be thirty and courted the same girl--ten years younger than
either of 'em, she was--twa'n't much better. Neither of 'em got her,
as a matter of fact; she married a tin peddler named Bassett over to
Hyannis. But both cal'lated they would have won if t'other hadn't been
in the race, and consequently they loved each other with a love that
passed understandin'. Tobias had got well to do in the cranberry-raisin'
line and drove a fast horse. Jonadab, durin' the last prosperous year
or two, had bought what he thought was some horse, likewise. They met
on the road one day last spring and trotted alongside one another for a
mile. At the end of that mile Jonadab's craft's jib boom was just astern
of Tobias's rudder. Inside of that week the Cap'n had swapped his horse
for one with a two-thirty record, and the next time they met Tobias was
left with a beautiful, but dusty, view of Jonadab's back hair. So HE
bought a new horse. And that was the beginnin'.
“It went along that way for twelve months. Fust one feller's nag would
come home freighted with perspiration and glory, and then t'other's. One
week Jonadab would be so bloated with horse pride that he couldn't find
room for his vittles, and the next he'd be out in the stable growlin'
'cause it cost so much for hay to stuff an old hide rack that wa'n't
fit to put in a museum. At last it got so that neither one could find a
better horse on the Cape, and the two they had was practically an even
match. I begun to have hopes that the foolishness was over. And then the
tin peddler's widow drifts in to upset the whole calabash.
“She made port at Orham fust, this Henrietta Bassett did, and the style
she slung killed every female Goliath in the Orham sewin' circle dead.
Seems her husband that was had been an inventor, as a sort of side line
to peddlin' tinware, and all to once he invented somethin' that worked.
He made money--nobody knew how much, though all hands had a guess--and
pretty soon afterwards he made a will and Henrietta a widow. She'd been
livin' in New York, so she said, and had come back to revisit the scenes
of her childhood. She was a mighty well-preserved woman--artificial
preservatives, I cal'late, like some kinds of tomatter ketchup--and her
comin' stirred Orham way down to the burnt places on the bottom of the
kettle.”
“I guess I remember HER, too,” put in Captain Bailey.
“Say!” queried Mr. Wingate snappishly, “do you want to tell about her?
If you do, why--”
“Belay, both of you!” ordered the depot master. “Heave ahead, Barzilla.”
“The news of her got over to Wellmouth, and me and Jonadab heard of it.
He was some subject to widows--most widower men are, I guess--but he
didn't develop no alarmin' symptoms in this case and never even hinted
that he'd like to see his old girl. Fact is, his newest horse trade had
showed that it was afraid of automobiles, and he was beginnin' to get
rabid along that line. Then come that afternoon when him and me was out
drivin' together, and we--Well, I'll have to tell you about that.
“We was over on the long stretch of wood road between Trumet and
Denboro, nice hard macadam, the mare--her name was Celia, but Jonadab
had re-christened her Bay Queen after a boat he used to own--skimmin'
along at a smooth, easy gait, when, lo and behold you! we rounds a turn
and there ahead of us is a light, rubber-tired wagon with a man and
woman on the seat of it. I heard Jonadab give a kind of snort.
“'What's the matter?' says I.
“'Nothin',' says he, between his teeth. 'Only, if I ain't some mistaken,
that's Tobe Loveland's rig. Wonder if he's got his spunk with him? The
Queen's feelin' her oats to-day, and I cal'late I can show him a few
things.'
“'Rubbish!' says I, disgusted. 'Don't be foolish, Jonadab. I don't know
nothin' about his spunk, but I do know there's a woman with him. 'Tain't
likely he'll want to race you when he's got a passenger aboard.'
“'Oh, I don't know!' says he. 'I've got you, Barzilla; so 'twill be two
and two. Let's heave alongside and see.'
“So he clucked to the Queen, and in a jiffy we was astern of t'other
rig. Loveland looked back over his shoulder.
“'Ugh!' he grunts, 'bout as cordial as a plate of ice cream. ''Lo,
Wixon, that you?'
“'Um-hm,' begins Jonadab. 'How's that crowbait of yours to-day, Tobe?
Got any go in him? 'Cause if he has, I--'
“He stopped short. The woman in Loveland's carriage had turned her head
and was starin' hard.
“'Why!' she gasps. 'I do believe--Why, Jonadab!'
“'HETTIE!' says the Cap'n.
“Well, after that 'twas pull up, of course, and shake hands and talk.
The widow, she done most of the talkin'. She was SO glad to see him. How
had he been all these years? She knew him instantly. He hadn't changed
a mite--that is, not so VERY much. She was plannin' to come over to the
Old Home House and stay a spell later on; but now she was havin' SUCH a
good time in Orham, Tobias--Mr. Loveland--was makin' it SO pleasant for
her. She did enjoy drivin' so much, and Mr. Loveland had the fastest
horse in the county--did we know that?
“Tobias and Jonadab glowered back and forth while all this gush was
bein' turned loose, and hardly spoke to one another. But when 'twas over
and we was ready to start again, the Cap'n says, says he:
“'I'll be mighty glad to see you over to the hotel, when you're ready to
come, Hettie. I can take you ridin', too. Fur's horse goes, I've got a
pretty good one myself.'
“'Oh!' squeals the widow. 'Really? Is that him? It's awful pretty, and
he looks fast.'
“'She is,' says Jonadab. 'There's nothin' round here can beat her.'
“'Humph!' says Loveland. 'Git dap!'
“'Git dap!' says Jonadab, agreein' with him for once.
“Tobias started, and we started. Tobias makes his horse go a little
faster, and Jonadab speeded up some likewise. I see how 'twas goin' to
be, and therefore I wa'n't surprised to death when the next ten minutes
found us sizzlin' down that road, neck and neck with Loveland, dust
flyin', hoofs poundin', and the two drivers leanin' way for'ard over
the dash, reins gripped and teeth sot. For a little ways 'twas an even
thing, and then we commenced to pull ahead a little.
“'Loveland,' yells Jonadab, out of the port corner of his mouth, 'if
I ain't showin' you my tailboard by the time we pass the fust house in
Denboro, I'll eat my Sunday hat.'
“I cal'late he would 'a' beat, too. We was drawin' ahead all the time
and had a three-quarter length lead when we swung clear of the woods and
sighted Denboro village, quarter of a mile away. And up the road comes
flyin' a big auto, goin' to beat the cars.
“Let's forget the next few minutes; they wa'n't pleasant ones for me.
Soon's the Bay Queen sot eyes on that auto, she stopped trottin' and
commenced to hop; from hoppin' she changed to waltzin' and high jumpin'.
When the smoke had cleared, the auto was out of sight and we was in the
bushes alongside the road, with the Queen just gettin' ready to climb
a tree. As for Tobias and Henrietta, they was roundin' the turn by the
fust house in Denboro, wavin' by-bys to us over the back of the seat.
“We went home then; and every foot of the way Cap'n Jonadab called an
automobile a new kind of name, and none complimentary. The boarders,
they got wind of what had happened and begun to rag him, and the more
they ragged, the madder he got and the more down on autos.
“And, to put a head on the whole business, I'm blessed if Tobias
Loveland didn't get in with an automobile agent who was stoppin' in
Orham and buy a fifteen-hundred-dollar machine off him. And the very
next time Jonadab was out with the Queen on the Denboro road, Tobias
and the widow whizzed past him in that car so fast he might as well have
been hove to. And, by way of rubbin' it in, they come along back pretty
soon and rolled alongside of him easy, while Henrietta gushed about Mr.
Loveland's beautiful car and how nice it was to be able to go just as
swift as you wanted to. Jonadab couldn't answer back, nuther, bein' too
busy keepin' the Queen from turnin' herself into a flyin' machine.
“'Twas then that he got himself swore in special constable to arrest
auto drivers for overspeedin'; and for days he wandered round layin' for
a chance to haul up Tobias and get him fined. He'd have had plenty of
game if he'd been satisfied with strangers, but he didn't want them
anyhow, and, besides, most of 'em was on their way to spend money at the
Old Home House. 'Twould have been poor business to let any of THAT cash
go for fines, and he realized it.
“'Twas in early June, only a few weeks ago, that the widow come to our
hotel. I never thought she meant it when she said she was comin', and so
I didn't expect her. Fact is, I was expectin' to hear that she and Tobe
Loveland was married or engaged. But there was a slip up somewheres, for
all to once the depot wagon brings her to the Old Home House, she hires
a room, and settles down to stay till the season closed, which would be
in about a fortn't.
“From the very fust she played her cards for Jonadab. He meant to be
middlin' average frosty to her, I imagine--her bein' so thick with
Tobias prejudiced him, I presume likely. But land sakes! she thawed
him out like hot toddy thaws out some folks' tongues. She never took no
notice of his coldness, but smiled and gushed and flattered, and looked
her prettiest--which was more'n average, considerin' her age--and by the
end of the third day he was hangin' round her like a cat round a cook.
“It commenced to look serious to me. Jonadab was a pretty old fish to
be caught with soft soap and a set of false crimps; but you can't
never tell. When them old kind do bite, they gen'rally swallow hook and
sinker, and he sartinly did act hungry. I wished more'n once that Peter
T. Brown, our business manager, was aboard to help me with advice, but
Peter is off tourin' the Yosemite with his wife and her relations, so
whatever pilotin' there was I had to do. And every day fetched Jonadab's
bows nigher the matrimonial rocks.
“I'd about made up my mind to sound the fog horn by askin' him straight
out what he was cal'latin' to do; but somethin' I heard one evenin', as
I set alone in the hotel office, made me think I'd better wait a spell.
“The office window was open and the curtain drawed down tight. I was
settin' inside, smokin' and goin' over the situation, when footsteps
sounded on the piazza and a couple come to anchor on the settee right by
that window. Cap'n Jonadab and Henrietta! I sensed that immediate.
“She was laughin' and actin' kind of queer, and he was talkin' mighty
earnest.
“'Oh, no, Cap'n! Oh, no!' she giggles. 'You mustn't be so serious on
such a beautiful night as this. Let's talk about the moon.'
“'Drat the moon!' says Jonadab. 'Hettie, I--'
“'Oh, just see how beautiful the water looks! All shiny and--”
“'Drat the water, too! Hettie, what's the reason you don't want to talk
serious with me? If that Tobe Loveland--'
“'Really, I don't see why you bring Mr. Loveland's name into the
conversation. He is a perfect gentleman, generous and kind; and as for
the way in which he runs that lovely car of his--'
“The Cap'n interrupted her. He ripped out somethin' emphatic.
“'Generous!' he snarls. ''Bout as generous as a hog in the feed trough,
he is. And as for runnin' that pesky auto, if I'd demean myself to own
one of them things, I'll bet my other suit I could run it better'n he
does. If I couldn't, I'd tie myself to the anchor and jump overboard.'
“The way she answered showed pretty plain that she didn't believe him.
'Really?' she says. 'Do you think so? Good night, Jonadab.'
“I could hear her walkin' off acrost the piazza. He went after her.
'Hettie,' he says, 'you answer me one thing. Are you engaged to Tobe
Loveland?'
“She laughed again, sort of teasin' and slow. 'Really,' says she, 'you
are--Why, no, I'm not.'
“That was all, but it set me to thinkin' hard. She wa'n't engaged to
Loveland; she said so, herself. And yet, if she wanted Jonadab, she was
actin' mighty funny. I ain't had no experience, but it seemed to me that
then was the time to bag him and she'd put him off on purpose. She was
ages too ancient to be a flirt for the fun of it. What was her game?”