Red Saunders Part 13

"Thank you, no, Will."

"Then I'm off."

It was almost with a feeling of terror that Miss Mattie beheld him root up the fence.

Her idea of repairing was to put in a picket here and there where it was most needed; Red's was to knock it all flat first, and set it up in A1 condition afterward. So, in two hours' time he straightened up and snapped the sweat from his brow, beholding the slain pickets p.r.o.ne on the gra.s.s with thorough satisfaction. Yet he felt tired, for the day was already hot with a moist and soaking sea-coast heat, to which the plainsman was unaccustomed. A three-quarter-grown boy pa.s.sed by, lounging on the seat of a farm waggon.

"Hey!" hailed Red. The boy stopped and turned slowly around.

"Yes, sir," he answered courteously enough.

"Want a job?" said Red.

"Well, I dunno," replied the boy. He was much astonished at the appearance of his interrogator, and he was a cautious New England boy to boot.

"_You_ don't know?" retorted Red. "Well,"

with some sarcasm, "d'ye suppose I could find out at the post-office?"

The boy looked at Red with a twinkle in his eye, and a comical drawing of his long mouth.

"I calc'late if you cud fin' out anyweres, 'twould be there," said he.

Red laughed. He had noticed the busy post-mistress rushing out of her store to waylay anyone likely to have information on any subject, a stream of questions proceeding from her through the door.

"Say, you got anything particular to do?"

"No, sir--leastways th'ain't no hurry about it."

"Can I buy stuff to make a fence with, around here?"

"Yes, sir--Mister Pettigrew's got all kinds of buildin' material at his store--two mile over yonder," pointing with the whip.

"You drive over there for me, and get some--just like this here--pickets and posts and whatever you call them long pieces, and I'll make it right with you."

"Yes, sir--how much will I get?"

"Oh, tell him to fill the waggon up with it, and I'll send back what I don't want--hustle, now, like a good boy; I want to get shut of this job; I liked it better before I begun."

When his Mercury had speeded on the journey at a faster gait than Red would have given him credit for, the architect strode down to the blacksmith's shop. There was a larger crowd than usual around the forge, as the advent of the stranger had gotten into the wind, and the village Vulcan was a person who not only looked the whole world in the face, but no one of the maiden ladies of Fairfield could have excelled his interest in looking the whole world as much in the inside pocket as possible. The blacksmith was emphatically a gossip, as well as a hardworking, G.o.d-fearing man.

"Say, there he comes now, Mr. Tuttle!"

cried one of the loungers, and nudged the smith to look.

"Well, let him come!" retorted the smith, testily, jamming a shoe in the fire with unnecessary force; as a matter of fact, he was embarra.s.sed. The loungers huddled together for moral support, as the big cow-man loomed through the doorway.

"Good morning, friends!" said he.

"Good morning, sir!" replied the blacksmith, rubbing his hands on his ap.r.o.n. "Nice day, sir?"

"For the sake of good fellowship, I'll say 'yes' to that," responded Red. "But if you want my honest opinion on the subject, it's d.a.m.n hot."

"'Tis that," a.s.sented the smith, and a silence followed.

"Say, who's your crack fence-builder around here?" asked Red. "The man that can make two pickets grow where only one grew before and do it so easy that it's a pleasure to sit and look at him?"

"Hey?" inquired the smith, not precisely getting the meaning of the address.

"Why, I've got a fence to build," exclaimed Red. "And now I want some help--want it so bad, I'll produce to the extent of three a day and call it a day from now 'till six o'clock--any takers here? Make your bets while the little ball rolls."

The loungers understood the general drift of this and p.r.i.c.ked up their ears, as did the blacksmith. "Guess one of the boys will help you," said the latter.

"Well, who's it?" asked Red, glancing at the circle of faces. Three dollars a day was enormous wages in that part of the country.

n.o.body knew just what to say.

"Oh, well!" cried Red, "let's everybody run--I reckon I can find something to do for the five of you--are you with me?"

"Yes, sir," they said promptly.

"Can I borrow a hammer or so off you, old man?" questioned Red of the smith.

"Certainly, sir," returned the latter heartily.

"Take what you want."

"Much obliged--and the gate hinges are out of whack--Miss Saunders' place, you know--come over and take a squint at 'em in the near by-and-by, will you? May as well fix it up all at once--come on, boys!"

It was thus that the greatest enterprise that Fairfield had seen in many a day was undertaken. Miss Mattie was simply astounded as the army bore down upon the house.

"Whatever in the world is Cousin Will doing?" said she; but resting strong in the faith that it was necessarily all right, she was content to wait for dinner and an explanation.

Not so the post-mistress. The agonies of unrequited curiosity the worthy woman suffered that morning until she at last summoned up her resolution and asked the smith plump out and out what it all meant, would have to be experienced to be appreciated. And the smith kept her hanging for a while, too, saying to himself in justification, that it wasn't right the way that old gal had to get into everybody's business. The smith was like some of the rest of us; he could see through a beam if it was in his own eye.

III

There was a great din of whacking and hammering that morning. Red worked like a horse, now that he had company. A sudden thought struck him and he went into the house.

"Mattie," said he.

"Well, Will?"

"I see a use for the rest of that nice big roast of beef I smell in the oven--let's have all these fellers stay to dinner, and give 'em one good feed--what do you say?"

"Why, I'd like to. Will--but I don't know--where'll I set them?"

"Couple of boards outside for a table--let them sit on boxes or something--got plates and things enough?"

"My, yes! Plenty of such things, Will."