Lost Farm Camp Part 10

"All right, Mephisto. Lead on. I want to see the face that launched a thousand-what's the rest of it?" said Bas...o...b.. as they filed down the stairs.

As they entered the little shop round the corner, Wallie a.s.sumed a rapturous expression as he gazed at the garishly plumed hats in the window.

"Might have known where to look for something choice," he remarked.

"Now, that hat with the green ribbon and the pink plume is what I call cla.s.sy, eh, Davy?"

They entered the shop and presently Miss Wilkins appeared with the new gingham on her arm.

"I just managed to do it," she said, displaying the frock from ingrained habit rather than for criticism.

"Isn't it a bit short?" asked Bas...o...b.. glancing from her to David.

Miss Wilkins frowned. Bas...o...b..s countenance expressed nothing but polite interest.

David was preternaturally solemn.

"Don't mind him, Miss Wilkins. He's only a surveyor and don't understand these things at all."

"Only a surveyor!" muttered Bas...o...b.. "Oh, mother, pin a rose on me."

He walked about the shop inspecting the hats with apparent interest while the dressmaker folded and tied up the frock. When they had left the place and were strolling up the street, Bas...o...b..took occasion to ask David how long he had been "a squire of suburban sirens."

"Ever since I came in," replied David cheerfully.

"Is the to-be-ginghamed the real peaches and cream or just the ordinary red-apple sort?"

"Neither," replied his friend. "She's fourteen and she's the daughter of your up-country friend the Cyclops, or, to be accurate, Hoss Avery."

"Oh, Heavings, Davy! But she must be a siren child to have such an intelligent purchasing agent in her employ."

David did not reply, as he was engaged at that moment in waving the parcel containing the dress round his head in a startling, careless manner.

"Easy with the lingerie, Davy dear. Oh, it's Cameron you're flagging-Curious Jim-do you know him?"

"Distantly," replied David smilingly.

"Correct, my son. So do I."

Cameron acknowledged the signal by hurrying to the rear of the hotel. In a few minutes he appeared on the wagon, which he drove to the store, and David's purchases were carefully stowed beneath the seat.

"Where'll I put this?" said Cameron, surrept.i.tiously squeezing the parcel containing the dress.

"Oh, the lingerie," volunteered Bas...o...b.. "Put that somewhere where it won't get broken."

"The which?" asked Curious Jim, standing astride the seat.

"Lingerie, Jim. It's precious."

"How about Smoke?" David turned toward Bas...o...b..

"I'll fix that," said Wallie, calling the dog to him. "Up you go, old fellow. Now, you needn't look at me like that. Great Scott! I'm not going to sell you-only lend you to Davy."

The dog drew back and sprang into the wagon. It was a magnificent leap and Cameron expressed his admiration earnestly.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, "he's whalebone and steel springs, ain't he? Wisht I owned him!"

"Well, so-long, Davy." Bas...o...b..held out his hand. "Oh, by the way, I suppose the reason for your advent in this community is-back in Boston wondering where you are, isn't she?"

David laid a friendly hand on the other's shoulder.

"Wallie," he said, speaking low enough to be unheard by the teamster, "you mean right, and I understand it, but it was a mistake from the first. My mistake, not Bessie's. Fortunately we found it out before it was too late."

Bas...o...b..was silent.

"And there's one more thing I wanted to say. Avery of Lost Farm is my partner. I should have told you that before, but you went at your story hammer-and-tongs, before I could get a word in. I'm going to advise him, as a business partner, to hold up his price for the tract."

Bas...o...b..s eyes narrowed and an expression, which David had seen frequently on the face of the elder Bas...o...b.. tightened the lips of the son to lines unpleasantly suggestive of the "market."

"It's honest enough, Davy, I understand that, but don't you think it's a trifle raw, under the circ.u.mstance?"

"Perhaps it is, but I should have done the same in any event."

Bas...o...b..bit his lips. "All right. A conscience is an inc.u.mbrance at times. Well, good-bye. I'll be up that way in a few weeks, perhaps sooner."

With a gesture of farewell, David climbed into the wagon.

Smoke stood with forepaws on the seat, watching his master. When he could no longer see him, he came solemnly to David's feet and curled down among the bundles. He, good soldier, had received his captain's command and obeyed unhesitatingly. This man-thing, that he remembered vaguely, was his new master now.

In the mean time Bas...o...b..was in his room scribbling a hasty note to his father. He was about to seal it when he hesitated, withdrew it from the envelope, and added a postscript:-

"I don't think Davy Ross knows _why_ we want Lost Farm tract, but I'll keep an eye on him, and close the deal at the first opportunity."

CHAPTER VII-THE BOOK AND THE "SPECS"

The wavering image of the overhanging forest was fading in the somnolent, foam-dappled eddies circling lazily past Lost Farm Camp when Jim Cameron's team, collars creaking and traces clinking, topped the ridge and plodded heavily across the clearing. Smoke swayed to the pitch and jolt of the wagon, head up and nose working with the scent of a new habitation. As the horses stopped, David and Smoke leaped down.

Beelzebub immediately scrambled to his citadel in the eaves, where he ruffled to fighting size, making small unfriendly noises as he walked along the roof, peering curiously over the edge at the broad back of the bull-terrier. Cameron unhitched the team leisurely, regretting the necessity for having to stable them out of earshot from the cabin. "I'll find out what a 'loungeree' is or bust," he confided to the horses, as he whisked the rustling hay from mow to manger.

"We been keepin' supper fur you," said Avery, as David came in, laden with bundles. "Set right down. Jim won't keep you waitin' long if he's in his reg'lar health. But where, this side of the New Jerusalem, did you git the dog?"

"That's Smoke. Here, Smoke, come and be introduced."

The dog allowed Swickey and her father to pat him, but made no overtures toward friendship. Avery eyed the animal critically.

"He's a born fighter. Kin tell it by the way he don't wag his tail at everything goin' on. Likewise he don't make up to be friends in a hurry, like some dogs, and folks."