CHAPTER XIV.
The next day's newspapers, from the city, brought full accounts of the stranding of the "Prudhomme," as well as of the safety of her passengers and cargo; but they had nothing whatever to say about the performances of the "Swallow." The yacht had been every bit as well handled as the great steamship, but then she had got home safely, and she was such a little thing, after all. Whatever excitement there had been in the village died out as soon as it was known that the boys were safe; and then, too, Mrs. Lee found time to "wonder wot Dab Kinzer means to do wid all de money he done got for dem blue-fish."
Dab himself had been talking with Ford Foster and Frank Harley, and an original idea of his own was beginning to take some sort of form in his mind. He did not, as yet, mention it to any one, as he wanted very much to consult with Ham Morris about it. As for Frank, Mr. Foster had readily volunteered to visit the steamship office, in the city, when he went over to business, next day, and do whatever might be needed with reference to the young gentleman's baggage. At the same time, Mrs. Foster wrote to her sister, Mrs. Hart, giving a full account of what had happened, and saying she meant to keep Frank as Ford's guest for a while.
The Hart boys hardly knew whether to submit or not, when that letter came, as they had planned for themselves all sorts of rare fun with "the young missionary" in their own home.
"Never mind, Fuz," said Joe, "we'll serve him out when we get to Grantley."
"Yes," replied Fuz; "I'd just as lief not see too much of him before that. He wont have any special claim on us if he doesn't go there from our house."
Other talk they had together, and the tone of it promised very lively times at Grantley Academy for the stranger from India. But while the Hart boys were laying their plans for the future, they were themselves the subjects of more than one discussion, for Ford Foster gave his two friends the benefit of all he knew of his cousins.
"It's a good thing for you that the steamer didn't go ashore anywhere near their house," he said to Frank Harley. "They're a pair of born young wreckers. Just think of the tricks they played on my sister Annie."
After that conversation, it was remarkable what daily care and attention Dab Kinzer and Frank paid to their sparring lessons. It even exceeded the pluck and perseverance with which Dab went to work at his French.
Plenty of fishing, bathing, riding, boxing. Three boys together can find so much more to do than one can alone, and they made it four as often as they could, for Dick Lee had proved himself the best kind of company. Frank Harley's East Indian experience had made him very indifferent to the mere question of color, and Ford Foster had too much manhood to forget that long night of gale and fog and danger on board the "Swallow."
It was only a day or so after the perilous "cruise" that Dab Kinzer met his old playmate, Jenny Walters, just in the edge of the village.
"How well you look, Dabney!" remarked the sharp-tongued little lady. "Drowning must agree with you."
"Yes," said Dab; "I like it."
"Do you know what a fuss they made over you when you were gone? I s'pose they'd nothing else to do."
"Jenny!" suddenly exclaimed Dab, holding out his hand, "you mustn't quarrel with me any more. Bill Lee told me about your coming down to the landing. You may say anything you want to."
Jenny colored and bit her lip, and she would have given her bonnet to know if Bill Lee had told Dab how very red her eyes were as she looked down the inlet for some sign of the "Swallow." Something had to be said, however, and she said it almost spitefully.
"I don't care, Dabney Kinzer. It did seem dreadful to think of you three boys being drowned, and you, too, with your new clothes on. Good-morning, Dab!"
"She's a right good girl, if she'd only show it," muttered Dab, as Jenny tripped away; "but she isn't a bit like Annie Foster. How I do wish Ham would come back!"
Time enough for that; and as the days went by, the Morris homestead began to look less and less like its old self, and more and more like a house made for people to live and be happy in. Mrs. Kinzer and her daughters had now settled down into their new quarters as completely as if they had never known any others, and it seemed to Dab, now and then, as if they had taken almost too complete possession. His mother had her room, as a matter of course, and a big one. There could be no objection to that. Then another big one, of the very best, had to be set apart and fitted up for Ham and Miranda on their return, and Dab delighted in doing all in his power to make that room all it could be made. But, then, Samantha had insisted on a separate domain, and Keziah and Pamela imitated their elder sister to a fraction. The "guest-chamber" had to be provided as well, or what would become of the good old Long Island customs of hospitality?
THE FIRE (SEE PAGE 748.)
Dab said nothing for a while, but one day, at dinner, just after the arrival of a letter from Miranda announcing the speedy return of herself and husband, he quietly remarked:
"Now I can't sleep in Ham's room any longer,—I suppose I'll have to go out on the roof. I wont sleep in the garret or in the cellar."
"That'll be a good deal as Mrs. Morris says, when she comes," calmly responded his mother.
"As Miranda says!" said Dab, with a long breath.
"Miranda?" gasped Samantha and her sisters.
"Yes, my dears, certainly," said their mother. "This is Mrs. Morris's house, or her husband's,—not mine. All the arrangements I have made are only temporary. She and Ham both have ideas and wills of their own. I've only done the best I could for the time being."
The girls looked at one another in blank amazement over the idea of Mrs. Kinzer being anything less than the mistress of any house she might happen to be in, but Dabney laid down his knife and fork with:
"It's all right, then. If Ham and Miranda are to settle it, I think I'll take the room Sam has now. You needn't take away your books, Sam. I may want to read some of them or lend them to Annie. You and Kezi and Meli had better take that upper room back. The smell of the paint's all gone now, and there's three kinds of carpet on the floor."
"Dabney!" exclaimed Samantha, reproachfully, and with an appealing look at her mother, who, however, said nothing on either side, and was a woman of too much good sense to take any other view of the matter than that she had announced.
Things were all running on smoothly and pleasantly before dinner was over, but Dab's ideas of the way the house should be divided were likely to result in some changes. Perhaps not exactly the ones he indicated, but such as would give him a better choice than either the garret, the cellar, or the roof. At all events, only three days would now intervene before the arrival of the two travelers, and everything required for their reception was pushed forward with all the energy Mrs. Kinzer could bring to bear. She had promised Ham that his house should be ready for him, and it was likely to be a good deal more "ready" than either he or his wife had dreamed of.