CHAPTER V
Alone in Track’s End I repent of my hasty Action: with what I do at the Headquarters House, and the whole Situation in a Nutshell.
When I came to think of it afterward I thought it was odd, but the first thing that popped into my mind when I saw that the fire had gone out was that perhaps there were no matches left in the town. I ran to the match-safe so fast that I bumped my head against the wall. The safe was almost full, and then it struck me that there were probably matches in half the houses in town, and that I even had some in my pocket.
I went over and peeped out of one corner of a window-pane where the wind had come in and kept back the frost. The snow was driving down the street like a whirling cloud of fog. I could hardly see the bank building opposite. An awful feeling like sinking came over me as I realized how matters stood; and 44 the worst of it was that I had brought it upon myself. I rushed into the dining-room and looked out of a side window to see if the train might not be coming back; but there was only the whirlwind of snow. I went back in the office and threw myself on a lounge in one corner.
If any one says that I lay there with my face in a corn-husk pillow and cried as if I were a girl, I’m not going to dispute him. If any girl thinks that she can cry harder than I did, I’d like to see her try it. But it, or something, made me feel better, and after a while I could think a little. But I could not get over knowing that it was all my own fault, and that I might be riding away on the train with friends, and with people to see and talk to. I realized that it was all my quick temper and stubbornness which was to blame, and remembered how my mother had told me that it would get me into trouble some day. “If Tom hadn’t come at me so suddenly,” I said out loud, with my face still in the husk pillow, “I’d have agreed to it. Dear old Tom, he meant all right, and I was a fool!”
When at last I sat up I found it was so dark 45 that I could hardly see. The wind was roaring outside, and I could feel fine snow against my face from some crack. I was stiff and cold, and just remembered that I had not had above a quarter of a meal all day. I thought I heard a scratching at the door, and opened it. Something rushed in and almost upset me; then I knew it was Kaiser, Sours’s dog. I was never so glad to see anything before. I dropped down on my knees and put my arms around his neck and hugged him, and for all I know I may have kissed him. I guess I again acted worse than a girl. I remember now that I did kiss the dog.
I got up at last and felt around till I found the match-safe, and lit the wall lamp over the desk. I thought it made it so I could actually see the cold. Kaiser seemed warm in his thick coat of black hair, and wagged his tail like a good fellow. I don’t know why it was, but I thought I had never wanted to talk so badly before. “We’re glad they’re gone, aren’t we, Kaiser?” I said to him; then I thought that sounded foolish, so I didn’t say anything more, but set to work to build the fire. 46
When I went to the shed at the back door for the kindling-wood I found another friend, this time our cat, a big black-and-white one. I don’t think I was quite so foolish about her as I had been about the dog, but I was glad to see her. After the fire was started I got a shovel and cleared the snow out of the office. Outside it was already banked halfway up the door, and the storm was still raging.
As I turned from putting some coal on the fire I happened to see the hotel register lying on the desk. Another foolish notion seized me, and I took up the pen and as well as I could with my stiff fingers headed a page “December 17th,” and below registered myself, “Judson Pitcher, Track’s End, Dakota Territory.” I think the excitement must have turned my brain, because I seemed to be doing silly things all the time.
But I managed to stop my foolishness long enough to get myself some supper; which I guess was what I needed, because I acted more sensibly afterward. Everything in the house was frozen, but I thawed out some meat, and ate some bread without its being thawed, and boiled a couple of eggs, and had a 47 meal which tasted as good as any I ever ate, and with enough left for Kaiser and the cat, who was named Pawsy, though I can’t imagine where such a name came from.