Peggy Stewart, Navy Girl, at Home Part 15

"Salt?" repeated Peggy in perplexity.

"Yes'm, Pepper's mate. I named 'em Pepper 'n Salt when they was young colts," and a faint smile curved the speaker's lips. Peggy nodded and said:

"Oh, I see. That was clever. They DO look like pepper and salt."

"Did," corrected the man. "There ain't but one now. But Salt were worth more 'n fifty dollars; yes, he were."

"He certainly was," acquiesced Peggy. "Do you want to sell Pepper too?"

"I'd sell my HEART, miss, if I could get things fer Nell."

"Who is Nell?"

"My girl, miss. Nigh 'bout yo' age, I reckons, but not big an' healthy an' spry like yo'. She's ailin' most o' the time, but we's mighty po,'

miss, mighty po'. We ain't allers been, but things have gone agin us pretty steady. Last year the hail spoilt the crops, an' oh well, yo'

don't want ter hear 'bout my troubles."

"I want to hear about any one's troubles if I can help them. How shall you get back to your place?"

"Reckon I'll have ter onhitch an' ride Pepper back, on'y I jist natch.e.l.ly hate ter see Nell's face when I get thar 'thout Salt. She set sich store by them horses, an' they'd foiler her anywheres. I sort ter hate ter start, miss."

"Listen to me," said Peggy. "What does Nell most need?"

"Huh! MOST need? Most need? Well if I started in fer ter tell what she MOST needs I reckon you'd be scart nigh ter death. She needs everythin'

an' seems like I can't git nothin'."

"Well what did you hope to get for her?" asked Peggy, making a random shot.

"Why she needs some shoes pretty bad, an' the doctor said she ought ter have nourishin' things ter eat, but, somehow, we can't seem ter git many extras."

"Will you go into the market and get what you'd like from Mr. Bodwell?

Here, give him this and tell him Miss Stewart sent you," and hastily taking a card from her case, Peggy wrote upon it:

"Please give bearer what is needed," and signed her name. "Get a good thick steak and anything else Nell would like."

The man hesitated. "But I ain't askin' charity, miss."

"This is for NELL, and maybe I'll buy Pepper--if SHE will sell him,"

flashed Peggy, with a radiant smile.

"I'll do as yo' tell me, miss. Mebbe it's Providence. Nell always says: 'The good Lord'll tell us how, Dad,' an' mebbe she's right, mebbe she is," and worn, weary, discouraged Jim Bolivar went toward the market.

During his absence Jess returned.

"Dat man's a no' 'count dead beat, Miss Peggy. Yas'm, he is fer a fac', an' he gwine treat dat hawse scan'lous."

Peggy's eyes grew dark. "We'll see," was all she said, but Jess chuckled. Most of the help at Severndale knew that look. "Jess, unharness that horse and tie him behind the surrey," was her next astonishing order.

"Fo' de Lawd's sake, Miss Peggy, what yo' bown' fer ter do? Yo' gwine start hawsestealin'?" Jess didn't know whether to laugh or take it seriously. When Jim Bolivar returned Pepper was trying to reason out the wherefor of being hitched behind such a handsome vehicle as Peggy's surrey, and Jess was protesting:

"But--but--b.u.t.ter," stammered Jess, "Miss Peggy, yo' am' never in de roun' worl' gwine ter drive from de town an' clar out ter Severndale wid dat disrep'u'ble ol' hawse towin' 'long behime WE ALL?"

"I certainly am, and what is more, Jim Bolivar is going to sit on the back seat and hold the leader. He has got to get HOME and he can't without help. Mr. Bolivar, please do as I say," Peggy's voice held a merry note but her little nod of authority meant "business."

"But look at me, miss," protested Bolivar. "I ain't fit ter ride with yo', no how."

"I am not afraid of criticism," replied Peggy, with the little up- tilting of the head which told of her Stewart ancestry. "When I know a thing is right I DO it. Steady, Comet. Quiet, Meteor," for the horses had been standing some time and seemed inclined to proceed upon two legs instead of four. "We'll stop at Brooks' for the shoes, then we'll go around to Dove's; I've a little commission for him."

"Yas'm, yas'm," nodded Jess.

The shoes were bought, Peggy selecting them and giving them to Bolivar with the words: "It will soon be Easter and this is my Easter gift to Nellie, with my love," she added with a smile which made the shoes a hundred-fold more valuable.

Then off to the livery stable.

"Mr. Dove, do you know a man named Steinberger?"

"I know an old skinflint by that name," corrected Dove.

"Well, you are to buy a horse from him. Seventy-five dollars OUGHT to be the price, but a hundred is available if necessary. But do your best.

The horse's name is Salt--yes--that is right," as Dove looked incredulous, "and he is a flea-bitten gray--mate to this one behind us.

Steinberger bought him today, and I want you to beat him at his own game if you can, for he has certainly beaten a better man."

"You count on me, Miss Stewart, you count on me. Whatever YOU say goes with me."

"Thank you, I'll wait and see what happens."

Their homeward progress was slower than usual, for poor half-starved Pepper could not keep pace with Comet and Meteor. About four miles from Annapolis Bolivar directed them into a by-road which led to an isolated farm, as poor, forlorn a specimen as one could find. But in spite of its disrepair there was something of home in its atmosphere and the dooryard was carefully brushed. Turkey red curtains at the lower windows gave an air of cheeriness to the lonely place. As they drew near a hound came bounding out to greet them with a deep-throated bark, and a moment later a girl about Peggy's age appeared at the door. Peggy thought she had never seen a sweeter or a sadder face. She was fair to transparency with great questioning blue eyes, ma.s.ses of golden hair waving softly back from her face and gathered into a thick braid. She walked with a slight limp, and looked in surprise at the strange visitors, and her big blue eyes were full of a vague doubt.

"It's all right, honey. It's all right," called Bolivar. "'Aint nothin'

but Providence a-workin' out, I reckon, jist like yo' say.

"We have brought your father and Pepper home. Salt is all right, Nelly.

You will see him again pretty soon."

"Oh, has anything happened to Salt, Dad?" asked the girl quickly.

"Well, not anything, so-to-speak. Jist let Miss Stewart, here, run it and it'll come out all right. I'm bankin' on that, judgin' from the way she's done so far. She's got a head a mile long, honey, she has, an' has mine beat ter a frazzle. Mine's kind o' wore out I reckon, an' no 'count, no more. Come long out an' say howdy."

Nelly Bolivar came to the surrey and smiling up into Peggy's face, said:

"Of course I know who you are, everybody does, but I never expected to really, truly know you, and I'm a right proud girl to shake hands with you," and a thin hand, showing marks of toil, was held to Peggy. There was a sweet dignity in the act and words.

Peggy took it in her gloved one, saying:

"I didn't suspect I was so well known. For a quiet girl I'm beginning to know a lot of people. But I must go now, it is getting very late. Your father is going to bring Pepper over to see me soon and maybe he will bring you, too. He has such a lot to tell you that I'll not delay it a bit longer. Good-bye, and remember a lot of pleasant things are going to happen," and with the smile which won all who knew her, Peggy drove away.

If people's right ears burn when others are speaking kindly of them, Peggy's should have burned hard that evening, for Nelly Bolivar listened eagerly as her father told of the afternoon's experiences and Peggy's part in them.

Two days later Salt was delivered at Severndale. Dove had been as good as his word. Shelby gave him one glance and said: