The Brass Bound Box Part 7

Away went the last great scheme, which had been wholly connected with Mr. Jones and his aspirations for town office; and up rose another far more gigantic, by which everybody who was poor, "everybody in the whole wide world," should benefit. For, of course, the mine was to be inexhaustible, and Aunt Eunice would be able to give away money hereafter without stint or measure.

If only she could get out that first great shining lump of gold!

And at last it was out, yet, after all, no gold whatever. Something almost as splendid, though, since this was a mystery. A mystery with a capital M! For if there were no mystery in the matter why should anybody hide that strangely shaped, glittering bra.s.s bound box beneath a chestnut-tree?

CHAPTER VI.

THE BRa.s.s BOUND BOX

A moment later Kate had sped through the wood to the spot where Moses was chopping, exclaiming:

"Oh, Mr. Jones, I've got to go home, back to Aunt Eunice's right away, quick. Is there a shorter way than we came, or can I find that by myself? Please tell me, quick, quick!"

Moses paused in his work and looked at the girl in great surprise. None of his fishing-mates, if given such a chance as she had, would have gone home till driven there; for the chestnuts had rattled out of their burrs at a fine rate when he had threshed the trees, and it was impossible that she should have gathered all or even many.

"Why, little Keehoty! Tired a'ready? An' I was plannin', by an' by, to make a speck of fire in a safe place I know an' roast some the nuts.

Ever et hot roast chestnuts out in the woods?"

"No, no, never! Oh, dear! I'd like to. It--it makes me terribly hungry to hear you speak of them, but--I must go home. Something has happened.

Something so important, I must, I must. Is there a shorter way? And if I go by myself shall I meet a tramp?"

"'Tramp!' Bosh! That's Susanna's foolishness put into your head a'ready.

I only wish I could see a tramp, just to know the breed. But what is it so important, if you please?"

"I can't tell you."

Moses whistled. "That's plump spoke, anyhow. Why can't ye? Are you sick?

Got a pain anywheres? Pep'mints are good for the stummick-ache, an' I always carry a few in my pocket. See?" said the kindly old man, pulling forth a paper bag and alluringly displaying its pink and white contents.

But to his further surprise Katharine declined the "pep'mints" and indignantly denied the stomach ache, declaring that she must go home and at once, and asking "which way first."

"Foller your nose, I reckon," retorted Mr. Jones, rather testily. He had enjoyed the tale of Don Quixote, had taken a sudden fancy to Katharine, had discovered that she knew "Oh, lots and lots more of stories just as delightful," and had intended to do a small amount of chopping that day, but a large amount of resting. The forest was in a glory of color, the air was "mild as midsummer," and in his capacious pocket he had brought his "tackle." His axe would furnish a couple of rods, and Katharine should have her first lesson at angling in the near-by brook, where trout were plentiful, it mattering little to this embryo constable what the game laws were; and it would have amazed him to learn that had he been in office he would have had to fine himself as the first, chief, and habitual trespa.s.ser. Now all this pleasant prospect was altered, and Moses "never liked to have his 'rangements upsot."

"Nor do I. Oh, dear! The more you talk the more I want to stay, and the very more I mustn't. Good-by, I'm going. You can have the caraway cakes and the red apple, and please, please take care my father's 'meetin'-basket.'"

But he laid a detaining hand upon her arm, and demanded:

"First tell me what you've got under your jacket!"

At her mention of the "meeting-basket" he had glanced across to the chestnut-trees and had seen that precious receptacle carefully hung upon a low branch out of harm's way. Yet here was the girl, hiding something beneath her long blue coat, and acting as if she had great ado to keep it there. It must have been a heavy, slippery something, because all the while she talked she kept hitching it up and clenching it till her knuckles turned white under the strain.

"I can't tell you, please," was the exasperating reply, as she wriggled her arm free and set off at a swift pace.

Again Moses whistled, but now in disappointment rather than surprise. He would have stoutly denied that he, a man, was possessed of curiosity such as he attributed wholly to "silly women," yet it is certain that he suddenly found the beautiful forest a disagreeable place, and reflected that it was his duty to follow the young stranger.

"She's queer actin', at the best, an' sharp as a razor; but what caper she's up to now beats me. Eunice ain't to home, an' Susanna never had sense. If there's anything goin' on there'd ought to be a man 'round with some sort of judgment in his head. Don't know what need there is for more small wood bein' cut, anyway. We've got two woodsheds full of kindlin' a'ready, besides the big ones of cord-wood for the reg'lar fires. We could stand a siege an' not suffer, though Eunice never does feel content 'less she's got fuel enough ahead to last two years. Hm-m.

It's gettin' too hot to chop, anyway. Must be Indian summer comin' on, though I claim 'tain't due till November. Susanna, now, _she_ says October, an' Eunice, _she_ calls that warm spell we always have the first the winter an Indian summer. Seems if there was as many Indian summers as there was folks, most, but I don't care. It's somethin' or other warm enough to-day, an' I'll go home. I can set in the barn an'

sort apples. That won't be a heatin' job, an' 'll give me a chance to have an eye on things. Oh, hum! I wish Monty would happen along.

Strange! how I miss that worthless, stutterin', big-hearted little shaver! I wouldn't offer to take _him_ fishin' more'n once without bein'

took up on my word."

His cogitations at an end, his belongings secured, and his little-used axe again over his shoulder, Moses went down to the chestnut-tree and secured the "meeting-basket." But he was surprised to see how the leaves at the foot of it had been scattered about, and that there was a hole in the ground itself. There was also in this hole the imprint of something square and solid, for the moist leaf-mold still retained the shape of the bra.s.s bound box, and heaped at one side were the nuts Kate had collected ready to put in the basket when once it should be empty.

"Must ha' been somethin' 'important,' sure enough, or she'd never have left them nuts. Well, I guess I can store 'em in my pockets, an' I'll coax her secret, whatever 'tis, out of her by givin' them back to her,"

mused this incurious man.

As fast as she could, and keeping an occasional glance upon certain trees she remembered, Kate made her way back through the wood. But it seemed confusing now and the ground rough. Coming in she had thought the ferns and fallen branches "mighty pretty," but going out they hindered her. The box, too, was heavy and difficult to hold, though as soon as she was out of sight of Moses she took it from beneath her coat and balanced it upon her arm. Then she laughed at her own precaution, thinking how foolish she had been to hide it, for, of course, he would know about it eventually.

"Only it is Aunt Eunice's, and I want her to see it first of all. I wonder what is in it. And I wish it wasn't quite so heavy. Can it be filled with gold? or diamonds, maybe. Oh, if it were diamonds--think!

Oh, dear! there goes my shoe-string untied again, and it trips me up so.

I must stop and tie it and see if I am going right. Seems as if I ought to see that old church by this time, yet the trees are just as thick as ever--or thicker. Now, old string, I'll knot you so tight you'll bother me no more till I go to bed."

Placing the strangely fashioned box or casket carefully on a large stone, Katharine flung herself down to tie her shoe. Which, having done, and finding her position restful, it was natural that her imagination should dwell upon the treasure she had found; and once at her day-dreams, Kate was very apt to forget other things. Nor did she rouse from her reverie till somebody close at hand demanded:

"I-I-I say! W-w-what's that?"

Instantly upon her feet she faced the intruder, vainly trying to hide with her short skirts the glittering casket, as she demanded, in return:

"How dare you come upon a person that way? Why--you might have frightened me into a fit. I don't like to be scared."

"Oh, f-f-fudge! I saw you if you d-d-didn't see me. What is t-t-that?"

Katharine coolly sat down upon the casket and thus effectually screened it from view. "I thought you were sick, or--or shut up. Aunt Eunice went to see if you needed nursing."

Montgomery sat down beside her. The small boulder upon which she had placed the box was round, and it was difficult to maintain one's position upon it without slipping. Doubly difficult if one were perched upon a sharp-angled cube, and one's pique skirt was stiffly starched. He comprehended the situation and meant to be upon the spot when the slipping occurred. He really didn't care very much to know what she was hiding, but was grateful for a chance to tease somebody.

During the few days of his retirement he had not enjoyed that privilege.

The fact was that it was Alfaretta, not he, who had been ill; and that he had been promoted--or degraded--to her position in the household. It all depended upon the point of view; his grandmother maintaining that he should feel proud to have the chance of serving her, who was unable, or unaccustomed to serving herself, and he feeling that to be tied up in a girl's pinafore and with bared arms set to washing dishes, peeling potatoes, and scrubbing floors was a disgrace. In vain did the stately old gentlewoman show him by her example that one could cook and clean and still be dignified; her grandson remained unconvinced and rebellious. He didn't believe that poor Alfaretta was sick. He knew she was shamming just to get out of her work and make him do it for her. And as for his being set to carry trays to a bound-out girl from the almshouse--that was the bitterest drop in his cup of woe. He had been sternly prohibited from "hectoring" the little maid, and the prohibition sat heavily upon him. So heavily, indeed, that no matter who had crossed his path when he was again liberated, that person was doomed to suffer what Alfy had been spared.

That person proved to be "Kitty Quixote," never more worthy of her name than as she sat in the forest dreaming marvellous dreams of the future; of wrongs to be righted, of poverty banished, and all dependent upon the unknown contents of a bra.s.s bound box. Under other circ.u.mstances she would have rejoiced to see Montgomery, as the only young creature of her own species yet met in Marsden, but not with this wonderful mystery upon her mind. When he had appropriated a full half of her boulder, uninvited, she waited a moment, then icily inquired:

"Where are you going?"

"N-n-n-nowhere."

"That's a good place. When?"

"Oh, b-b-bime-by," answered the lad, with easy indifference.

"You might be late," suggested Katharine, sweetly, yet inwardly longing to mimic his stammering speech.

Then, all at once, she began to slide. There had been no perceptible movement on Montgomery's part. a.s.suming an indifference as great as his own, Katharine had leaned forward to inspect her second shoe-string, and afterward attempting to regain her former uprightness, felt, instead, that she was slipping downward. She landed angrily upon her feet, and, facing about, she upbraided him as a "rude, unmannerly boy."

However, the mischief was done, her secret was out. Monty forgot his desire to "plague her" in his surprised curiosity. Bending over the box he examined it critically, and finally announced: