Scattergood Baines Part 42

"Not more 'n most," said Mrs. Patterson.

"Um!... If he lets on to be hungry, what's the best thing to feed him up on? I got a bag of doughnuts and five-six sandriches and nigh on to half a apple pie in the buggy."

"Feed him them," said Mrs. Patterson, "and you'll be like to hear some real yellin'. What he's doin' now hain't nothin' but his objectin' to you a-carryin' him like he was a horse blanket.... You wait right there till I git a bottle of milk. And I'll fix you some sugar in a rag that you kin put into his mouth if he acts uneasy. It'll quiet him right off."

"Much 'bleeged. Hain't had much experience with young uns. Might's well start now. Bet me 'n this here one gits well acquainted 'fore we reach Coldriver."

"'Twouldn't s'prise me a mite," replied Mrs. Patterson, with something that might have been a twinkle in her tired eyes. "I almost feel I should go along with you."

"G'-by, Mrs. Patterson," said Scattergood, hastily, and he climbed into his buggy clumsily, placing the baby on the seat beside him, and holding it in place with his left arm. "G'-by."

The buggy rattled off. The baby hushed suddenly and began to look at the horse.

"Kind of come to your senses, eh?" said Scattergood. "Now you and me's goin' to git on fine if you jest keep your mouth shet. If you behave yourself proper I dunno but what I kin find a stick of candy f'r you when we git there."

Presently Scattergood looked down to find the baby asleep. He drove slowly and cautiously, whispering what commands he felt were indispensable to his horse. This delightful situation continued for upward of two hours, and Scattergood said to himself that folks who bothered about traveling with infants must be very easily worried.

"Jest as soon ride with this one clean to the Pacific coast," he said.

And then the baby awoke. It blinked and looked about it; it rubbed its eyes; it stared severely up at Scattergood; it opened its mouth tentatively, closed it again, and then--and then it uttered such an ear-piercing, long-drawn shriek that the old horse jumped with fright.

"Hey, there!" said the startled Scattergood. "Hey! what's ailin' you now?"

The baby closed his eyes, clenched his fists, kicked out with his legs, and gave himself up whole-heartedly to the exercise of his voice.

"Quit that," said Scattergood. "Now listen here; that hain't no way to behave. You won't git that candy--"

Louder and more piercing arose the baby's cries. Scattergood dropped the reins, lifted the baby to his knee, and jounced it up and down furiously, performing an act which he imagined to be singing, a thing he had heard was interesting and soothing to babies. It did not even attract this one's attention.

"Sufferin' heathen!" Scattergood said. "What in tunket was it that woman said I sh'u'd do? Hain't they no way of shuttin' him off? Look-ee here, young feller, you jest quit it.... B'jing! here's my watch. You kin listen to it tick."

The baby tried the watch on his toothless gums, found it not to his taste, and flung it from him with such vehemence that it would have suffered permanent injury but for the size and strength of the silver chain which attached it to Scattergood. The cries became more maddening.

Scattergood was not hungry, so it did not occur to him that the infant might be thinking of food. He dandled it, he whistled, he sang, he pointed out the interesting attributes of his horse, and promised to direct attention to a rabbit or even a deer in a moment, but nothing availed. Perspiration was pouring down Scattergood's face, and his expression was that of a man who devoutly wishes he were far otherwise than he is.

Half an hour of this seemed to Scattergood like the length of a sizable day--and then he remembered the milk. Frantically he fished it out of the basket and thrust it toward the young person, who did with it what seemed right to him, and, with a gurgle of satisfaction, settled down to business. Scattergood sighed, wiped his forehead, and revised his opinion of folks who were worried at the prospect of travel with an infant.

The rest of that drive was a nightmare to Scattergood. When the baby yelled he was in torment. When the baby slept he was in torment lest he wake it, so that it would commence again to cry. He sweat cold and he sweat hot, and he wished wishes in his secret heart and blamed himself for many things--chief of which was that he had not brought Mandy along to bear the brunt of the adventure.

But at last, long after nightfall, with baby fast asleep, Scattergood drove into Coldriver by deserted and circuitous roads. He stopped his horse in a dark spot on the edge of the village, and, with the baby cautiously held in his arms, he slunk through back ways and short cuts to the house where Jed and Martha Lewis made their home. With meticulous stealth he pa.s.sed through the gate, laid the baby on the doorstep, rang the bell long and determinedly, and then, with astonishing quiet and agility, hid himself in the midst of a clump of lilacs.

The door opened, and a light shone through upon the squirming bundle that lay upon the step. A tentative cry issued from the baby; a ba.s.s exclamation issued from Jed Lewis. "My Gawd! Marthy, somebody's left a baby here!"

Martha pushed past her husband and lifted the baby in her arms. She said no word, but Scattergood could see her press it close, and, in the light that came through the door, could see the expression of her face.

It satisfied him.

"What we goin' to do with the doggone thing?" Jed demanded.

Martha pushed past him into the house, and he followed, wordless, closing the door after them.... Scattergood remained for some time, and then slunk away....

Postmaster Pratt gave the news to Scattergood in the morning.

"Somebody went and left a baby on to Jed Lewis's stoop last night," he declared. "Hain't n.o.body been able to identify it. Nary a mark nor a sign on to it no place. ... Whatever possessed anybody to leave a baby _there_ of all places?"

"I want to know!" exclaimed Scattergood. "Girl er boy?"

"Boy, I'm told."

"What's Jed say?"

"Hain't sayin' much. Jest sets and kind of hangs on to his head, and every once in a while he gits up and looks at the baby and then goes back to holdin' his head."

"How about Marthy?"

"Marthy," said Postmaster Pratt. "I can't make out about Marthy, but I heard her a-singin' this mornin' 'fore breakfast. Fust time I heard her sing for more 'n a year."

"Might 'a' been singin' to the baby," Scattergood suggested.

"Naw, it was while she was gittin' breakfast. Jest the time she and Jed quarrels most powerful."

During the day all of Coldriver called to see the mysterious infant.

n.o.body could give a clue to its ident.i.ty, and it was decided unanimously that it had been brought from a distance. As to the intentions of the Lewises regarding its disposition, they were noncommittal. It was universally accepted as fact, however, that the baby would be sent to an inst.i.tution.

Thereupon Scattergood called upon the First Selectman.

"What's the town goin' to do about that baby?" he demanded.

"Taxpayers'll be wantin' to know. Seems like the town's liable f'r its support."

"Calculate we be.... Calculate we be. I been figgerin' on what steps to take."

"Better go across to Jed's and notify 'em," said Scattergood. "They'll be expectin' you to take action prompt. I'll go 'long with you."

They walked down the street and rapped at the Lewises' door.

"Come on official business," said the First Selectman, pompously, to Jed, "connected with that there foundlin'."

Martha came hastily into the room. "What you want?" she demanded, in a dangerous voice.

"Come to tell you we would take that baby off'n your hands and send it to a inst.i.tution. Git it ready, and we'll take it to-morrer."

"Take that baby!... Did you hear him, Jed Lewis? Did you hear that man say as how he was goin' to take away my baby?" She stumbled across the room to Jed and clutched the lapels of his coat. Scattergood noticed with some pleasure that Jed's arm went automatically about her waist.

"Make 'em git out, Jed. Tell 'em they can't take this baby.... You want we should keep it, don't you, Jed?... We wanted one. You know how we wanted one.... You're goin' to let us keep it, hain't you, Jed?"

Jed put Martha aside gently and walked over to a makeshift crib in the corner, where the baby was asleep, where he stood for a moment looking down at it with a curious expression. Then he turned suddenly, strode to the door, opened it, and pointed. "Git!" he said to the First Selectman and Scattergood.

"Jed ... Jed ... darlin'," Martha cried, and as Scattergood pa.s.sed out he saw from the corner of his eye that she was sobbing on her husband's hickory shirt and that he was patting her back with awkward gentleness.

"Looked a mite like Jed wanted we should go," said Scattergood.

"I'll have the law on to him. He'll be showed that he can't stand up to the First Selectman of this here town, I'll--"