“By the gods!” he cried. “We’ll build a dandy, Ed!” in which he was seconded by the trapper, whose blue eyes already twinkled over the scheme. A week still remained before the Jacksons’ arrival, and they went to work with a will, clearing a space beside the old lean-to, Ed chopping and Joe hauling.
By the next night the three log sides of the new camp were notched and in place, and before another forty-eight hours the roof was on. The next morning, a few rods behind it, they started a smaller one. This was to serve as a dressing-tent for the ladies, for in those days, friends, chaperons, boys and girls, sweethearts, cousins, guides, and aunts, all shared the same roof and the same open fire at their feet. Ah! the good old days—they’re gone now.
The millionaire attended to that.
Before noon of the seventeenth the new camp was ready, and “ez neat as a piny,” as Ed expressed it, its double roof of bark water-tight, its open front facing the pond, and its bed of balsams deep and long enough to comfortably sleep ten if need be.
That afternoon, leaving Ed in camp, Joe started alone down to the valley to meet them on the morrow. Despite all his joyful expectancy, he had his keen moments of doubt and fear. What were the Jacksons like? he wondered. Somehow he could not help fearing they would bring with Sue some impossible girl—some selfish, fastidious niece, perhaps. He was ready for anything, however, as long as they brought Sue.
He spent that night at the old hotel, and most of the next morning between the middle of the road and the porch of the store. The faintest sound of wheels brought him out to the highway.
Suddenly he caught sight of a distant buckboard. It drew nearer. There was no mistaking it. Joe’s heart beat like a trip-hammer. There they were! Bill Dubois’s boy was driving; next to him sat a short gray-haired, middle-aged man in a slouch-hat, shading a genial, round countenance; behind them a lady wearing a green veil, and beside her—Sue.
Joe was waving frantically. Jackson waved both arms wildly in the air, Sue waved her pocket-handkerchief, and Mrs. Jackson, untying her green veil, waved that.
They had arrived, and there was no niece—only their baggage, roped on behind.