“Look, mammy!” announced Billy as he pointed to a small oak table, polished to an astonishing perfection. “Abner did hit, and here’s somethin’ else,” dragging her farther along toward a wide, hanging shelf. “Hit’s fer books, and I’m ter have one eend.” He fairly danced with happiness, and Mrs. Gooch turned to her husband and son a face full of pride. Not one sacrifice which she had made for her children seemed worth remembering now.
It was Mrs. Coyle’s turn for self-gratification when Martin showed her his book-case and seat which were to be carried home in the jolt wagon. “I’ve some books to put into it, too. Professor Johns is going to let me take charge of the travelling library in a week or two, then we’ll have some good times at Goose Creek. Nights, after supper is over, we’ll take turns reading. Tally and I have it all planned out.”
The Shackley boys were not to be outdone by Martin and Abner. They showed their planting pins, clock case, and umbrella rack with much pride. Kid examined everything carefully for the fourth or fifth time. “I’m comin’ ter Bentville next year,” he announced decidedly. “I’m goin’ ter work in the wood-working department; they want more boys.”
Dan Gooch patted the broad back. “See you do, son. Your pappy kin git plenty of husky fellers fer blacksmithin’ ’thout usin’ brains, and you’ve got ’em.” Kid blushed and eyed Sam Coyle furtively, waiting for the accustomed gibes, but they did not come. The latter individual was apparently engrossed in a mental estimation of the height of the huge standpipe in plain sight of the back windows.
“If thar ain’t the Twilligers!” he said, looking around suddenly. “I’d an idee they’d drapped off’n the fur aidge of the yarth ’fore this, and had a notion ter begin sarchin’ fer ’em.”
Piny, radiant in a new pink lawn, with her father and mother in tow, bore directly down upon them.
“Here you are!” she exclaimed. “I reckoned the boys had tolled you over this way for the wind-up. Look here, pappy, what do you think of this, and this?” pointing to the various pieces of furniture.
Zeb Twilliger stared open-mouthed to the unconcealed delight of the young folks. It took some time to convince him and his wife that the boys had really done the work. “Wal, wal, I swan!” he ejaculated at last, peering down at each article critically.
“Ye’d better give ’em a lift gittin’ hit home,” suggested Mrs. Twilliger generously, and Zeb agreed.
A white cloud of dust hovered over the long procession which filed homeward, back to the hills. Talitha waved good-bye as, one by one, the college buildings were lost to sight, and Kid—with Abner behind him in the saddle—voiced the general sentiment of the crowd when he turned to shout cheerily: