Uncle William: The Man Who Was Shif'less Part 29

Uncle William, with a hand on either knee, surveyed him over his spectacles. "I saw 't was you 'fore you landed."

The man's face fell a little. "We wanted to surprise you--"

"You've s'prised _him_ all right. He hain't no idea what he's runnin'

to." He looked toward the door. "I reckon he'll stay an hour."

The man crossed one thin leg over another. "That gives me more time," he said contentedly.

Uncle William gazed politely. "Was you wantin' time?" he asked.

The man smiled. "I wanted to see you."

"You wanted to see _me_?" Uncle William's face held pleasure, but not very much curiosity.

The man nodded. "I came on purpose."

"You did? I thought you come to bring her?" His thumb indicated the beach.

"I wanted to see you, and she wanted to come, so here we are."

"Here you be," a.s.sented Uncle William. "And I'm glad to see ye. He was gettin' middlin' hard to hold."

The other man studied his face. "How much will you take for your place?"

he asked.

Uncle William looked up. He shook his head slowly. "I won't take nuthin'."

The man smiled. "I'll give you five thousand for it."

"You will?" Uncle William's glance was mild. A smile crept into it. "I wish 't Andy could hear you say that," he said; "but I can't sell."

"Why not?"

"Where'd I live?"

The stranger appeared to ponder a minute. "You could keep enough to live on," he said at last. "I'd rather have you, in fact."

"I'll give _you_ enough to live on," said Uncle William. "I like your looks. I'd like to have you round."

"That won't do for me," said the man.

"'T won't do for me, either," said Uncle William.

They confronted each other. The stranger's eyes dropped first. "I'll give you ten thousand," he said quietly.

"You will?" Uncle William moistened his lips with his tongue. "I'll _hev_ to go tell Andy that," he said.

"You'll take it?"

"Lord, no, I couldn't take it! Nor twenty thousand; so don't you go offerin' it to me. I _should_ like to tell Andy you was offerin' it, though."

The man laughed out. "I was thinking of it," he said.

Uncle William leaned forward, looking at him. "What are you so set on buyin' my place for? It's a G.o.d-forsaken spot--most folks would call it.

Andy does."

"I like it," said the man.

"So do I," said Uncle William.

The Frenchman waited a minute. Then he turned a little, looking into Uncle William's face. "Did you ever see be before?" he asked slowly.

Uncle William returned the look in full measure. "You ain't forgot I saw you in New York--'long in the spring?"

"I don't mean that. I mean before--years ago." The man's voice was mellow.

Uncle William studied the thin face and looked over the thin legs.

"No, I hain't ever seen ye," he said. "And yet the' 's suthin' about ye,"--the man uncrossed his legs,--"suthin' that keeps kind o' pullin'

on me." Uncle William rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. "You ever seen me?" he demanded.

The man's eyes laughed. "Hundreds of times."

"You hev?" Uncle William sat up. "Where?"

"Right here."

"In this house?"

"Well, around here," said the man, "on these rocks and near by. I lived here once. I dote on these rocks--every one." He waved a hand at the landscape.

Uncle William fixed him with stern eye. "You hain't ever lived here,"

he said slowly. "You don't mean to lie." His gaze grew kindlier. "You're jest romancin'." He brought it out with unction.

The Frenchman stared. Then he laughed out. "Well done! I can't fight you for that." He leaned forward. "Who lived this side of Gunnion's when you were a boy?" he asked.

Uncle William paused. He looked again at the face with its lifted eyebrows and pointed beard. He shook his head. A light grew in his face slowly--he started forward. "Not Bodet?" he said eagerly. "Not little Benjy Bodet?" He stared again.

The man laughed musically. "Right." He stood up, holding out his hand.

"I thought you would know me."

Uncle William took it slowly. He studied the thin, keen face. "Benjy Bodet," he said. "I'd know you--much as you've changed--I'd know you!

Set right down and tell me all about it."

"All?" said the man. He laughed again, looking contentedly about the room. "It will take some time."

"You'll have to stay quite a while," said Uncle William.

The man nodded. "I mean to. I've wanted to come back ever since the day we sailed for France."