MRS. WIGGETT'S "NOON-MARK."
Jack returned home, unexpectedly, that night. He jumped for joy when told of Mr. Betterson's call and the message he had left. The promise of money due himself could not have pleased him so much as the prospect now presented of justice being done to the truckman.
He felt some concern, it must be owned, lest the money should, after all, be diverted from its course; he determined, therefore, to act promptly in the matter, and go to Long Woods the next day.
He and Forrest were laying out town lots somewhere up the river; and he was closely occupied all the next forenoon and a part of the afternoon with his calculations and drawings.
At last he leaped up gayly, with that sense of satisfaction and relief which comes from the consciousness of work well done.
He harnessed Snowfoot, put his compass into the buggy, thinking he would give Mrs. Wiggett her noon-mark this time without fail, winked assent at Lion, eager to accompany him, and drove off with a feeling of enjoyment, to which the thought of some one he was going to meet gave a wonderful zest.
As it was getting late in the day when he reached the settlement, he stopped only a moment at the "castle," to speak with Vinnie, and leave word that he would call and see Mr. Betterson on his way back; then drove on to Mr. Wiggett's log-cabin.
His reception there was most cordial, especially when it was found that he had come with his compass, prepared to make the noon-mark.
"House don't front no sort of a way," said the old man; "and I reckon you'll have to give us a kin' of a slantin'diclar line from 'bout this yer direction," indicating a wood-pile by the road.
The little Wiggetts meanwhile thronged the doorway, staring at Jack and his strange machine, and their old acquaintance, the dog.
"Cl'ar the kitchen, you young uns!" the mother stormed after them, cuffing right and left. "Noon-mark'll cut ye plumb in tew, 'f ye don't scatter! It's comin' into this yer door, like it was a bullet from pap's rifle!"
The grimy faces and bare legs "scattered"; while Mrs. Wiggett called to Jack,—
"How long 'fore ye gwine to shute that ar thing off? 'Low I oughter scoop up a little fust."
"Scoop up?" Jack repeated, not quite taking her meaning.
"Right smart o' dirt on the floor yer; it'll be in your way, I reckon."
"Not at all," said Jack. "My line will cut through; and you can scoop down to it, at your leisure. I must get you to remove these iron wedges, Mr. Wiggett; the needle won't work with so much iron near."
The wedges removed, the needle settled; and Jack, adjusting the sights of his compass to a north-and-south line, got Mr. Wiggett to mark its bearings for him, with a chalk pencil, on the floor of the open doorway.
"All creation!" shrieked the woman, suddenly making a pounce at the kneeling old man; "we don't want a noon-mark thar, cl'ar away from the jamb, ye fool! We want it whur the shadder o' the jamb 'll hit it plumb at noon."
The old man looked up from his position on "all-fours," and parried her attack with his lifted hand.
"Ye mout wait a minute!" he said; "then you'll see if me an' this yer youngster's both fools. I had a lesson that larnt me onct that he knows better 'n I dew what he's about; an' I 'lowed, this time, I'd go by faith, an' make the marks 'thout no remarks o' my own."
"The line will come just where you want it, Mrs. Wiggett," Jack assured her, hiding a laugh behind his compass.
Having got the old man to mark two points on his north-and-south line, one at the threshold and the other a little beyond, Jack put his rule to them and drew a pencil-line; Mrs. Wiggett watching with a jealous scowl, not seeing that her mark was coming where she wanted it,—"right ag'in the jamb,"—after all.
Then, by a simple operation, which even she understood, Jack surprised her.
He first measured the distance of his line from the jamb. Then he set off two points, on the same side, at the same distance from the line, farther along on the floor. Then through these points he drew a second line, parallel to the first, and touching the corner of the jamb, by which the noon shadow was to be cast. Into this new line Jack sank his noon-mark with a knife.
"There," said he, "is a true noon-mark, which will last as long as your house does,"—a prediction which, by a very astonishing occurrence, was to be proved false that very afternoon.
"I reckon the woman is satisfied," said the old man; "anyhow, I be; an' now what's the tax for this yer little scratch on the floor?"
"Not anything, Mr. Wiggett."
"Hey? ye make noon-marks for folks 'thout pay?"
"That depends. Sometimes, when off surveying, I'm hailed at the door of a house, and asked for a noon-mark. I never refuse it. Then, if convenient, I take my pay by stopping to dinner or supper. But I never accept money."
"Sartin!" cried the old man. "Yer, ol' woman!" (it must be remembered that Mrs. Wiggett was forty years younger than her husband), "fly round,—make things hum,—git up a supper as suddent as ye kin, an' ax our friend yer. Whur's that Sal?"
Mrs. Wiggett, who had appeared all pride and sunny smiles regarding her noon-mark (particularly after hearing it was not to be paid for), fell suddenly into a stormy mood, and once more began to cuff the children right and left.
Jack hastened to relieve her mind by saying that Mr. Wiggett had quite mistaken his meaning; that he had an engagement which must deprive him of the pleasure of taking supper with her and her interesting family. Thereupon she brightened again. The old man shook him warmly by the hand; and Jack, putting his compass into the buggy, drove back up the valley road.
Vinnie had told him that the Betterson boys were cutting logs for their aqueduct; and hearing the sound of an axe on his way back, Jack tied Snowfoot to a sapling by the road, and went up into the woods to find them.
"What! you coming too, Lion?" he said, after he had gone several rods. "Didn't I tell you to watch? Well, I believe I didn't. Never mind; Snowfoot is hitched."
He found Rufe and Wad cutting trees with great industry, having determined to have the logs laid from the spring to the house without delay.
"We've taken the farm of father, as you suggested," said Wad. "He is helping us do the fall ploughing while we get out our logs. He and Link are at it with the oxen, over beyond the house, now."
"And where's that precious cousin of yours?"
"I believe he has gone to the house to see if supper is about ready," said Rufe. "He's smart to work, when he does take hold, but his interest doesn't hold out, and the first we know, he is off."
Jack stopped and talked with the boys about their water-works for about half an hour. Then Rad came up through the woods, by way of the spring, and announced that supper was ready, greeting Jack with a jeering laugh.
"You'll take tea with us, of course," Rufe said to Jack.
"I suppose your father will be at the house by this time; I'll stop and see him, at any rate," was Jack's reply.
Rufe went with him down through the woods to where Snowfoot was left hitched. As they were getting into the buggy, Rufe noticed Zeph Peakslow coming out of some bushes farther down the road, and going towards home.
"See him slink off?" said Rufe. "He's afraid of me yet; but he needn't be,—I've promised Vinnie not to meddle with him."
Then, on the way home, Rufe surprised Jack by telling him how Vinnie had made acquaintance with the Peakslow family, and how Mrs. Peakslow, taking advantage of her husband's absence from home, had called on the Bettersons, under pretence of returning Vinnie's box of salve.
Mr. Betterson had not yet come to the house; and Jack, having hitched Snowfoot to an oak-tree, and told of his business with the Wiggetts, asked Vinnie and her sister if they would not like a noon-mark on their floor. "It will be a good thing to set your clock by when it goes wrong," he explained.
Vinnie gladly accepted the offer.
"And, O Jack!" she said, "I wish you would give Mrs. Peakslow one too."
"I would, certainly," said Jack; "but" (his pride coming up) "wouldn't it look as if I was anxious to make my peace with Peakslow?"
"Never mind that; I think even he will appreciate the kindness. I wish you would!"
"I will—to please you," said Jack. "This afternoon, if I have time." And he went to the buggy for his compass.
He fumbled in the blanket under the seat, looked before and behind, and uttered an exclamation.
"What's the trouble, Jack?" Rufe asked.
"It is gone! my compass is gone!" said Jack. "Somebody has taken it."
"That Zeph—we saw him, you know!" said Rufe. "It's one of his tricks."
"I'll overhaul that Zeph!" said Jack; "I'll teach him to play his tricks on me!"
Vinnie ran after him as he was starting off.
"Jack! don't be hasty or unkind!"
"O no! I won't be unkind," said Jack, with something bitter in his laugh. "I just want my compass, that's all." And he hurried down the road.