“It cost a lot of money to put in that drainage system,” commented Bobby; “but we found it impracticable to drain an entire river.”
It was Shepherd’s turn to be puzzled, a process in which he stopped to laugh.
“This is the first time I ever heard an owner belittle his own property,” he declared. “I suppose that next you’ll only accept half the price we offer.”
Bobby kept up his part of the conversation but feebly as they whirled out to the site of the old Applerod Addition. He was lost in speculation upon what could possibly have happened to that unfortunate swamp area. When they arrived, however, he was surprised to find that Shepherd had been correct. The ground, though sunken in places and black with the residue of one-time stagnant water, was firm enough to walk upon, and after many tests he even ran the machine across and across it. Moreover, grass and weeds, forcing their way here and there, were already beginning to hide and redeem the ugly earthen surface.
Bobby surveyed the miracle in amazement. It was the first time he had seen the place in a year. Even in his trips to the waterworks site, which was just north, beyond the hill, he had chosen the longer and less solid river road rather than to come past this spot of humiliating memories.
“I can’t understand it,” he said again and again to the two men. “Why, Mr. Shepherd, I spent thousands of dollars in filling this swamp and draining it, with the idea of making a city subdivision here. Silas Trimmer, the man from whom I bought the place, imagined it to be fed by underground springs, but he let me spend a fortune to attract people out to see my new building lots so that he could, without cost, sell his own. That is his addition up there on the hills, and I’m glad to say he has recently mortgaged it for all that it will carry.”
“How about the springs?” asked Shepherd with a frown. “Did you find them? You must have stopped them. Are they liable to break out again?”
“That’s the worst of it,” replied Bobby, still groping. “It wasn’t springs at all. It was a peculiar geological formation, some disarranged strata leading beneath the hill from the river and emptying into the bottom of this pond. All through the year it seeped in faster than our extensive drainings could carry it away, and in the spring and fall, when the river was high, it poured in. I don’t see what could have happened. Suppose we run over and see the engineer who worked on this with me. He is now in charge of the new waterworks.”
In five minutes they were over there. Jimmy Platt, out in his shirt-sleeves under a broad-brimmed straw hat, greeted them most cordially, but when Bobby explained to him the miracle that had happened to the old Applerod Addition, Platt laughed until the tears came into his eyes; and even after he stopped laughing there were traces of them there.
“Come down here and I’ll show you,” said he.