Quincy Adams Sawyer And Mason's Corner Folks Part 34

"I didn't say he was a quack," replied Culver. "He is a natural-born healer, and he uses only nature's remedies in his practice. Go and see him, Quincy, and judge for yourself."

"But," said Quincy, "I had hoped that you--"

"But I couldn't," broke in Paul. "I am an emergency doctor. If baby has the croup, or Jimmy has the measles, or father has the lung fever, they call me in, and I get them well as soon as possible. But if mother-in-law has some obscure complaint I am too busy to give the time to study it up, and they wouldn't pay me for it if I did. Medicine, like a great many other things, is going into the hands of the specialists eventually, and Tillotson is one of the first of the new school."

At that moment a maid announced that some one wished to see Dr. Culver, and Quincy took a hurried leave.

He found his father, mother, and sisters at home, and breakfast was quickly served after his arrival. They all said he was looking much better, and all asked him when he was coming home. He gave an evasive answer, saying that there were lots of good times coming down in Eastborough and he didn't wish to miss them. He told his father he was improving his time reading and writing, and would give a good account of himself when he did return.

He had to wait an hour before he could secure an interview with Dr.

Tillotson. The latter had a spare day in each week, that day being Thursday, which he devoted to cases that he was obliged to visit personally. Quincy arranged with him to visit Eastborough on the following Thursday, and by calling a carriage managed to catch the half-past eleven train for that town, and reached his boarding place a little before two o'clock. He had arranged with the driver to wait for a letter that he wished to have mailed to Boston that same afternoon.

He went in by the back door, and as he pa.s.sed through the kitchen, Mandy made a sign, and he went to her.

"Hiram waited till one o'clock," said she, "but he had to go home, and he wanted me to tell you that the surprise party is coming off next Monday night, and they are going to get there at seven o'clock, so as to have plenty of time for lots of fun, and Hiram suspects," and her voice fell to a whisper, "that Strout is going to try and work the Deacon for that five hundred in cash to put up for the grocery store next Tuesday.

That's all," said she.

"Where is Miss Pettengill?" Quincy inquired.

"She's in the parlor," said Mandy. "She has been playing the piano and singing beautifully, but I guess she has got tired."

Quincy went directly to the parlor and found Alice seated before the open fire, her right hand covering her eyes.

She, looked up as Quincy entered the room and said, "I am so glad you've got back, Mr. Sawyer. I have been very lonesome since you have been away."

Alice did not see the happy smile that spread over Quincy's face, and he covered up his pleasure by saying, "How did you know it was I?"

"Oh," said Alice, "my hearing is very acute. I know the step of every person in the house. Swiss has been with me all the morning, but he asked a few minutes ago to be excused, so he could get his dinner."

Quincy laughed, and then, said, "Miss Pettengill, we forgot a very important matter in connection with your stories; we omitted to put on the name of the author." He told her of his meeting with Ernst, and what had taken place, and Alice was delighted. Quincy did not refer to the coming visit of Dr. Tillotson, for he did not mean to speak of it until the day appointed arrived. "Now, Miss Pettengill, I have some letters to write to send back by the hotel carriage, so that they can be mailed this afternoon. While I am doing this you can decide upon your pseudonym, and I will put it in the letter that I am going to write to Ernst."

Quincy went up to his room and sat down at his writing table. The first letter was to his bankers, and enclosed a check for five hundred dollars, with a request to send the amount in bills by Adams Express to Eastborough Centre, to reach there not later than noon of the next Tuesday, and to be held until called for. The second letter was to a prominent confectioner and caterer in Boston, ordering enough ice cream, sherbet, frozen pudding, and a.s.sorted cake for a party of fifty persons, and fifty grab-bag presents; all to reach Eastborough Centre in good order on Monday night on the five minutes past six express from Boston.

The third letter was to Ernst. It was short and to the point. "The pseudonym is--." And he left a blank s.p.a.ce for the name. Then he signed his own. He glanced over his writing table and saw the three poems that Alice had given him to read. He added a postscript to his letter to Ernst. It read as follows:

"I enclose three poems written by the same person who wrote the stories. Tell me what you think of them, and if you can place them anywhere do so, and this shall be your warrant therefor. Q.A.S."

When his mail was in readiness he went downstairs to the parlor, taking a pen and bottle of ink with him, and saying to himself, "That pseudonym shall not be written in pencil."

"I am in a state of hopeless indecision," remarked Alice. "I can think of Christian names that please me, and surnames that please me, but when I put them together they don't please me at all."

"Then we will leave it to fate," said Quincy. He tore a sheet of paper into six pieces and pa.s.sed three, with a book and pencil, to Alice. "Now you write," said he, "three Christian names that please you, and I will write three surnames that please me; then we will put the pieces in my hat, and you will select two and what you select shall be the name."

"That's a capital idea," said Alice, "it is harder to select a name than it was to write the story."

The slips were written, placed in the hat, shaken up, and Alice selected two, which she held up for Quincy to read.

"This is not fair," said Quincy. "I never thought. Both of the slips are mine. We must try again."

"No," said Alice, "it is 'Kismet.' What are the names?" she asked.

"Bruce Douglas, or Douglas Bruce, as you prefer," said Quincy.

"I like Bruce Douglas best," replied Alice.

"I am so glad," said Quincy, "that's the name I should have selected myself."

"Then I will bear your name in future," said Alice, and Quincy thought to himself that he wished she had said those words in response to a question that was in his mind, but which he had decided it was not yet time to ask her. He was too much of a gentleman to refer in a joking manner to the words which Alice had spoken and which had been uttered with no thought or idea that they bore a double meaning.

Quincy wrote the selected name in the blank s.p.a.ce in Leopold's letter, sealed it and took his mail out to the carriage driver, who was seated in the kitchen enjoying a piece of mince pie and a mug of cider which Mandy had given him.

As Quincy entered the kitchen he heard Mandy say, "How is 'Bias nowadays?"

"Oh, dad's all right," said the young man; "he is going to run Wallace Stackpole again for tax collector against Obadiah Strout."

"Is your name Smith?" asked Quincy, advancing with the letters in his hand.

"Yes," replied the young man, "my name is Abbott Smith. My dad's name is 'Bias; he is pretty well known 'round these parts."

"I have heard of him," said Quincy, "and I wish to see him and Mr.

Stackpole together. Can you come over for me next Wednesday morning and bring Mr. Stackpole with you? I can talk to him going back, and I want you to drive us over to your father's place. Don't say anything about it except to Mr. Stackpole and your father, but I am going to take a hand in town politics this year."

The young man laughed and said, "I will be over here by eight o'clock next Wednesday."

"I wish you would have these letters weighed at the post office, and if any more stamps are needed please put them on. Take what is left for your trouble," and Quincy pa.s.sed Abbott a half dollar.

He heard the retreating carriage wheels as he went upstairs to his room.

He made an entry in his pocket diary, and then ran his eye over several others that preceded and followed it.

"Let me see," soliloquized he, as he read aloud, "this is Friday; Sat.u.r.day, expect war records from Adjutant-General; Monday, hear from Ernst, surprise party in the evening; Tuesday, get money at express office; Tuesday afternoon, buy Hill's grocery and give Strout his first knock-out; Wednesday, see Stackpole and Smith and arrange to knock Strout out again; Thursday, Dr. Tillotson." He laughed and closed the book. Then he said, "And the city fellows think it must be dull down here because there is nothing going on in a country town in the winter."

CHAPTER XXV.

SOME PLAIN FACTS AND INFERENCES.

The next day was Sat.u.r.day; the sun did not show itself from behind the clouds till noon, and Quincy put off his trip to the Eastborough Centre post office with the hope that the afternoon would be pleasant. His wish was gratified, and at dinner he said he was going to drive over to Eastborough Centre, and asked Miss Pettengill if she would not like to accompany him. Alice hesitated, but Uncle Ike advised her to go, telling her that she stayed indoors too much and needed outdoor exercise.

Ezekiel agreed with his uncle, and Alice finally gave what seemed to Quincy to be a somewhat reluctant consent.

He saw that the sleigh was amply supplied with robes, and Mandy, at his suggestion, heated a large piece of soap-stone, which was wrapped up and placed in the bottom of the sleigh.

Alice appeared at the door equipped for her journey. Always lovely in Quincy's eyes, she appeared still more so in her suit of dark blue cloth. Over her shoulders she wore a fur cape lined with quilted red satin, and on her head a fur cap, which made a strong contract with her light hair which crept out in little curls from underneath.

They started off at a smart speed, for Old Bill was not in the shafts this time. Alice had been familiar with the road to Eastborough before leaving home, and as Quincy described the various points they pa.s.sed, Alice entered into the spirit of the drive with all the interest and enthusiasm of a child. The sharp winter air brought a rosy bloom to her cheeks, and as Quincy looked at those wonderful large blue eyes, he could hardly make himself believe that they could not see him. He was sure he had never seen a handsomer girl.

As they pa.s.sed Uncle Ike's little house, Quincy called her attention to it. Alice said: