The Young Surveyor Part 10

"Where are you stopping?"

"On board the schooner that brought me. She is lying quite near here, at a wharf in the river."

"Can you stay on board till to-morrow?"

Vinnie thought the captain and his wife would be glad to keep her.

"Though it isn't very nice," she added, "now that they are discharging the cargo."

"Perhaps you had better go to the Farmers' Home, where my friend and I have put up," said Jack.

"You at the Farmers' Home! Why couldn't I have known it?" said Vinnie.

"It was there I went to inquire for Long Woods people, and met that scape-grace. When do you go home?"

"We start early to-morrow morning. You can go with us as well as not,--a good deal better than not!" said the overjoyed Jack. "Nothing but a little load of groceries. You shall go home with me to North Mills; Mrs.

Lanman will be glad to see you. Then I'll drive you over to Long Woods in three or four days."

"Three or four days!" exclaimed Vinnie, not daring to be as happy as these welcome words might have made her. "I should like much to visit your friends; but I must get to my sister's as soon as possible."

Jack's face clouded.

"Vinnie, I'm afraid you don't know what you have undertaken. I can't bear the thought of your going into that family. Why do you? The Lanmans will be delighted to have you stay with them."

"O, but I must go where I am needed," Vinnie answered. "And you mustn't say a word against it. You must help me, Jack!"

"They need you enough, Heaven knows, Vinnie!" Jack felt that he ought not to say another word to discourage her, so he changed the subject.

"Which way now is your schooner?"

Vinnie said she would show him; but she wished to buy a little present for the captain's wife on the way. As they pa.s.sed along the street, she made him tell all he knew of her sister's family; and then asked if he had heard from George Greenwood lately.

"Only a few days ago he sent me a magazine with a long story of his in it, founded on our adventure with the pickpockets," replied Jack. "He writes me a letter about once a month. You hear from him, of course?"

"O yes. And he sends me magazines. He has wonderful talent, don't you think so?"

And the two friends fell to praising the absent George.

"I wonder if you have noticed one thing?" said Vinnie.

"What, in particular?"

"That Grace Manton has been the heroine of all his last stories."

"I fancied I could see you in one or two of them," replied Jack.

"Perhaps. But I am not the heroine; I am only the goody-goody girl,"

laughed Vinnie. "When you see beauty, talent, accomplishments,--that's Grace. I am glad they are getting on so well together."

"So am I!" said Jack, with an indescribable look at the girl beside him.

"Mr. Manton is dead,--I suppose you know it," said Vinnie.

Jack knew it, and was not sorry; though he had much to say in praise of the man's natural talents, which dissipation had ruined.

The purchase made, they visited the schooner, where it was decided that Vinnie should remain on board. Jack then left her, in order to make the most of his time looking about the city for his horse.

He continued his search, visiting every public stable, making inquiries of the hostlers, and nailing up or distributing a small handbill he had had printed, offering a reward of twenty dollars for "a light, reddish roan horse, with white forefeet, a conspicuous scar low down on the near side, just behind the shoulder, and a smaller scar on the off hip."

In the mean time he kept a sharp lookout for roan horses in the streets.

But all to no purpose. There were roan horses enough, but he could see and hear nothing of the particular roan he wanted.

In the evening he went to see Vinnie on board the schooner, and talked of his ill success.

"A light roan? that's a kind of gray, ain't it?" said the captain of the Heron. "That bearish fellow from Long Woods, who wouldn't take into his wagon anybody connected with the Bettersons--"

"Dudley Peakslow,--I sha'n't soon forget his name!" said Vinnie.

"He drove such a horse," said the captain; "though I didn't notice the forefeet or any scars."

Jack laughed, and shook his head.

"That's what everybody says. But the scars and forefeet are the main points in my case. I wouldn't give a cent for a roan horse without 'em!"

Then he changed the subject. "It's a beautiful night, Vinnie; let's go for a little stroll on the lake sh.o.r.e, and forget all about roans,--light roans, dark roans, white feet, black, blue, green, yellow feet! Perhaps your friends will go with us."

Jack hoped they wouldn't, I regret to say. But the night was so pleasant, and the captain's wife had become so attached to Vinnie, that she persuaded her husband to go.

The lake sh.o.r.e was charming; for in those early days it had not been marred by breakwaters and docks. The little party strolled along the beach, with the sparkling waves dashing at their feet, and the lake spread out before them, vast, fluctuating, misty-gray, with here and there a white crest tossing in the moon.

Singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of songs with Vinnie, telling stories with the captain, skipping pebbles on the lake,--ah, how happy Jack was! He was glad, after all, that they had all come together, since there was now no necessity of Vinnie's hastening back to the schooner, to prevent her friends from sitting up for her.

"I've been in this port fifty times," said the captain, "but I've never been down here before, neither has my wife; and I'm much obliged to you for bringing us."

"I like the lake," said his wife, "but I like it best from sh.o.r.e."

"O, so do I!" said Vinnie, filled with the peace and beauty of the night.

It was late when they returned to the schooner. There Jack took his leave, bidding Vinnie hold herself in readiness to be taken off, with her trunk, in a grocer's wagon early the next morning.

CHAPTER XI.

JACK'S NEW HOME.

In due time the wagon was driven to the wharf; and Vinnie, parting from the captain and his wife with affectionate good-byes, rode out in the freshness of the morning across the great plain stretching back from the city.

The plain left behind, groves and streams and high prairies were pa.s.sed; all wearing a veil of romance to the eye of the young girl, which saw everything by its own light of youth and hope.