Ruel Perley Smith

“ Had it not offered some sort of shelter from the storm, however, the place would hardly have appealed to Harvey and Henry Burns. The aged building seemed to creak and sway in the wind, as though it might fall apart from weakness and topple into the water. The stream plunged over the dam with a sullen roar, much as if it chafed at the barrier and longed to sweep it altogether from its course and carry its timbers with it. Once the lightning flashed into and through all the cobwebbed window-panes, and the mill gave out a ghastly glare. ”

“ Do you suppose Spencer was right after all?"
"May be," said Harvey. "Let's hit it up a little harder; but watch sharp for the brook."
"Aye, aye, skipper," said Henry Burns.
But at this moment the glassy surface of the stream dimpled all over with the sudden fall of raindrops; a compact, heavy cloud wheeled directly overhead and poured its contents upon them, while, afar off, the fields were still lit with patches of sunlight. They scrambled as hastily as they could into their sweaters again.
"Let it come," said Henry Burns, resuming his wet paddle; "it's only a cloud-bank that's caught us. ”

“ Henry Burns and Harvey and Bess Thornton had crossed this brook, by way of the bridge on their flight to the mill.
A wayfarer, standing on the little bridge, of an afternoon, keeping motionless and in the shadow, might sometimes see, far down in the clear water, vague objects that looked like shadows cast by sticks. He might gaze for many minutes and see no sign of life or motion to them. Then, perchance, one of these same grey shadows might disappear in the twinkling of an eye; the observer would see the surface of the water break in a tiny whirl ”

“ Out of the darkness of the other part of the mill there came in a sound of rushing water, plainly distinguishable above the roar of the water flowing over the dam, and the dashing rain and the gusts of wind. Then, as they stood, listening curiously, there came a deep, rumbling sound out of the very vitals of the old mill; there was a gentle quivering throughout all its timbers; a groaning in all its aged structure; a whirring, droning sound—the wheels of the mill were turning, and there was needed only the pushing of one of the levers to set the great mill-stones, themselves, to grinding. ”

“ George Warren crept up, softly.
It was not surprising that Henry Burns had been interested by what he saw in the old room of the inn, and by what he at length came to hear. At first glance, there was Colonel Witham, fat and red-faced, strangely aroused, evidently labouring under some excitement, addressing himself vigorously to the old woman who sat close by. His heavy fist came down, now and then, with a thump on the arm of the chair in which he sat; and each time this happened poor old Granny Thornton jumped nervously as though she had been struck a blow. ”

“ Whitecap pond seemed to return the welcome, too; for it twinkled all over in the light of an afternoon sun, as they set up the two tents that were to house them; and it sent in its light ripples dancing merrily almost to the very door of the tents; a splash now and then in the still waters told them of fishing delights to come. The white, fine sand of its shores was soft as carpet to their feet, as they ran races along the shore, and took a swim by moonlight before they turned in for the night's rest. ”

“ Luck had been with the Ellisons, surely; for running rapids in shallow water is most uncertain work. Tom and Bob, old canoeists, knew well the appearance of water that denotes a sunken rock, and by sheer skill and watchfulness turned their canoe aside ever and again with a quick sweep of the paddles, to avoid a treacherous place, where the water whirled ominously. Henry Burns and Harvey had lately come down the stream, and knew by that experience how easy it was to get hung up when it was least expected. ”

“ Some way up the brook, if one followed a path through mowing-fields from Farmer Ellison's, and crossed a little foot-bridge over the brook, he would come eventually upon a house, weather-beaten and unpainted, small and showing every sign of neglect. The grass grew long in the dooryard. A few hens scratched the weeds in what once might have been flower-beds. The roof was sagging, and the chimney threatened to topple in the first high wind.
The sun was shining in at the windows of this house, at the close of an afternoon, a few days following the adventure of Henry Burns and Harvey in the mill. ”

“ A whoop of delight gave acquiescence. The procession clattered out of Benton and started up the valley road by the stream.
They went along noisily at first, beating their battered tinware, setting off giant firecrackers, blowing horns and whooping lustily. Farmers along the road opened a sleepy eye as they passed, remembered it was the morning of the Fourth, and turned over for another nap. Pickerel in the stream dived their noses into the soft mud at the lowest depths. Night-hawks, high above, swooped after their prey and added their weird noise to the din. ”

“ It was a serious moment for Tim Reardon. There wasn't a better swimmer of his size in all Benton. Only a few of the larger lads dared to dive with him from the very top of Pulpit Rock, a high point on the bank of the stream, some miles below. Now he was stumped by a girl no bigger than himself, and he felt his knees wabbling in uncertain fashion at the thought of attempting the flume. And there was his big friend, Harvey, and Henry Burns, waiting out on the water, uncertain as to what they should do. He might aid them to win the race. ”

“ Down it came in torrents; a summer rainfall to delight the heart of a farmer with growing crops; a shower that fairly bent the grass in the fields with its weight; that made a tiny lake in the bottom of the canoe, flooded back around Harvey's knees in the stern, and which trickled copiously down the backs of the two boys underneath their sweaters.
"What was you saying about Grand Island, Jack?" inquired Henry Burns, slyly.
"Grand Island be hanged!" said Harvey. "When I start for there, I'll go in a boat that's got a cabin. I guess Benton will do for us." ”

“ John Ellison forthwith produced a long bent bow of alder, strung with pieces of tied horse-hair.
"Listen," said Henry Burns; and he drew the bow gently across the resined rope. The sound that issued forth—the combined agony of the vibrating wash-boiler and the shrill squeak of the rope—was one hardly to be described. It was like a wail of some unworldly creature, ending with a shuddering twang that grated even on the nerves of Henry Burns's companions. Then Henry Burns laid the bow aside and was ready for the search. ”

“ Bangs proved to be a genial companion in the days that followed. Nothing suited him better than to fill up the Flyaway with the crew of campers and go sailing on the pond. No longer seeking to support a fallen dignity as skipper, he was pleased to receive instruction from Henry Burns and Harvey, and even occasionally from Little Tim, in the art of sailing.
They showed him how to sail the craft nicely to windward, without the sail shaking; how to run off the wind, with no danger of jibing her; how to reef with safety, and how to watch the water for signs of squalls. ”

“ Without waiting for a reply, Bess Thornton darted out across a treacherous pathway of light cedar and spruce logs that lay, confined by a log-boom, waiting to be sawed into shingle stuff; for the old mill occasionally did that work, also, as well as grinding corn. Many of the logs were not of sufficient size to support even the girl's light weight, but sank beneath her, wetting her bare feet. She sprang lightly from one to another, pausing now and then to rest and balance herself on some larger log that sustained her. Little Tim, equally at home about the water, followed. ”

“ At the words, so quick and unexpected, Granny Thornton shrank back as though she had received a blow. Her eyes rolled in her head, and she seemed to be trying to reply; but the words would not come. She gasped and choked, and clutched at her throat with her shrunken hands.
Henry Burns spoke again, grasping one of her hands, and compelling her to listen.
"Somebody else wants her home more than you do," he said. "Why don't you give her back? She's too smart and bright to go to the poorhouse, when you die. Why do you keep her here?" ”

“ Henry Burns and Jack Harvey stood for a moment, gazing in perplexity at each other.
"Shall we go, or stick it out?" asked Harvey, in a low voice.
"Why, it's a public house, and I don't believe he has a right to throw us out this way," said Henry Burns. "But it means a fight, sure, if we try to stay. I guess we better quit. It's his own place, and he's a rough man when he's angered."
Ruefully pulling on their sweaters—at least dry once more—and taking their paddles, which they had brought with them, from behind the door, they went out into the night, into the driving rain. ”

“ It was every one for himself, then, and lucky to gain the bank without bruises, or a ducking—or worse. It was all so sudden, so terrifying, so confusing, that no one paused to see who else was in danger.
But when Henry Burns and Jack Harvey and George Warren, Tom and Bob and John Ellison had gained the shore, a cry came in that turned them. Away over toward the other shore, they espied Little Tim and Bess Ellison scrambling desperately. ”

“ So I've been thinking what I'd do, if I wanted a chance to look for them, and I said to myself that I'd try to go to work in the mill, and keep my eyes open."
"Well, you've hit it," responded John Ellison. "I know he needs a man, and I'm big enough to do the work. Say, come on in with me to-morrow, will you? I hate to go ask Old Witham for work. You don't mind. Come in and see what he says."
"I'll do it," replied Henry Burns. "I'll meet you at the foot of the hill to-morrow forenoon at ten o'clock. Perhaps he'll hire me, too."
"You! you don't have to work," exclaimed John Ellison. ”

“ She steadied herself for a moment, holding to the side of the doorway; then pushed herself away from it, came down the plank incline, and thence on to the path leading from the elevation on which the shed stood, at full speed. Her legs, too short for her feet to touch the pedals as they made a complete revolution, stuck out at an angle; but she guided the wheel and rode past Tim Reardon and the colonel, triumphantly. When the wheel stopped, she let it fall and landed on her feet, laughing.
"Here it is, Colonel Witham," said she, rolling it back to where he stood. "Let's see you ride it." ”

“ One standing, by chance, at the door of the mill that opened on to the road, might have espied, in one of these sudden illumings of the night, a farm wagon, drawn by a tired horse, splashing along the road past the mill, and turning off, just below it, on the road leading to the house on the hill. ”

“ Henry Burns turned and gave one quick, inquiring glance at his companion. In return, Harvey gave a whistle that denoted his surprise at the odd turn of affairs, and said shortly, "Got to do it now. We can go through if they can. Hang that girl! Get a good brace now. Gimminy, look at that water run!"
They were on the very brink, as he spoke; and, even as he muttered the last exclamation, the canoe dipped to the incline of the chute and went darting down its smooth surface. They hardly saw the sides of the flume as they shot by. ”

“ Witham, the child shook a not very formidable fist in the direction of the tavern, then added, sharply, "Where are you going?"
"Up to that house on the hill," said Harvey. "They'll take us in there, won't they?"
The answer was not encouraging.
"No-o-o, not much he won't," cried the girl. "Oh, don't you know old Farmer Ellison? He's worse than Witham. He hates you."
"Guess not," said Henry Burns. "We never saw him."
"No, but you're from the city," said the child. "He hates all of you. Haven't I heard him say so, and shake his old cane at Benton? He'll cane you. ”

“ The latter's canoe, encumbered by water that leaked slightly but steadily through the rent in the canvas, dragged somewhat and had to be bailed before they had gone a half mile further.
That afternoon, a boy, barefoot and hatless, stood by the shore at a point a little way above the Ellison dam, anxiously watching up stream as far as he could see. That he was intensely excited was evident by the way he fidgeted about; and once he climbed a birch tree that overhung the water and gazed away from that perch.
"Hello, Tim," said a voice close by him, suddenly. "What are you looking for?" ”

“ Henry Burns's chagrin at this second meeting was lost in admiration.
"Good shot!" he exclaimed. "How'd you know 'twas a pickerel?"
"Oh I catch 'em," she answered. "And once in a while I show one to Benny Ellison so he can shoot it. I don't like him much, though. He's mean and—fat."
Henry Burns chuckled.
"He can't help that," he said.
"No, but he's always stuffing himself with candy and things," said the girl. "And he won't ever give you any. I like people that give away things once in a while, don't you?" ”

“ Unused to farm labour, as they were, their muscles were, however, far from being soft and easily tired. Tom and Bob, who excelled at athletics, surprised Jim Ellison with the amount of hay they could stack up into cocks, or, again, the amount they could spread and scatter; and they were tireless in following him through all the broad field. Henry Burns and Little Tim were of the wiry sort that never seemed to weary; while Harvey made the pile of split wood grow in a way that made Mrs. Ellison's eyes stick out. ”

“ Farmer Ellison was coming up the stairs. Then the lantern appeared at the top of the stairway, and the bearer came into view.
They saw him go from one corner to another, throwing the lantern rays now overhead among the tangle of belting, now behind some beam. Then he paused for a moment beside one of the huge grinding stones. He put his foot upon it and uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.
"All right—all right," they heard him say. "Ah, the old mill looks poor, but there's some men dress just like it, and have money in their pockets." ”

“ Two canoes shot around a bend of the stream, one not far behind the other—but the second canoe, to Little Tim's disappointment, that guided by Jack Harvey. Tom and Bob had a fair lead, and, by the way they were putting life into their strokes, seemed likely to maintain it.
"Ow wow," bawled Little Tim. "Come on, Jack! Come on, Henry! You can beat 'em yet. Give it to 'em!"
Bess Thornton, catching the enthusiasm and spirit of her companion, and espying who the occupants of the second canoe were, added her cries of encouragement to those of Little Tim. ”

“ That quick, powerful thrust of the paddles, as Tom and Bob struck the water with perfect precision, sent the light canoe spurting ahead in a way that could not be equalled by less trained rivals.
Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, toiling manfully, seemed to feel that they, too, were being out-paddled; for ever and again one of them would glance back over his shoulder; after which he would strike the water with a sharper thrust, and the canoe would respond to the fresh endeavour.
"They'll gain some," said Henry Burns once, calmly. "We can't help that. ”

“ Is it not so, men?"
The doom of Red Bull, otherwise Magua, the dog of the Wyandots, was declared.
The death of the captive followed swiftly—in pantomime—the brave scouts, under the leadership of Henry Burns, performing a series of dances about the helpless one, accomplishing his end with imaginary tomahawk blows.
"Now he must be scalped," said Henry Burns. "What say you, men, shall we cast the lot to see who takes the scalp of Magua, the great chief of the Hurons?"
It was done. The short stick was drawn by Little Tim—to his inexpressible joy. ”

“ It shut each farmhouse in upon itself; the Ellisons in their home; Colonel Witham and Granny Thornton alone in the Half Way House. The old mill was silent for a whole week.
Then there came a magazine to Tom Harris, bringing a timely suggestion to the boys of Benton. It told of the snowshoe of the Norwegians, the ski, with which a runner could travel through the deep drifts of loose snow, and coast down the steep hills, as easily as on a toboggan. Soon, working in spare hours, each youth had fashioned himself a pair. ”

“ Colonel Witham dozed again, and again slumber overtook him. He did not stir when Grannie Thornton, recovered from her attack of rheumatism, appeared at a window and shook a table-cloth therefrom; nor when Bess Thornton, dancing out of the doorway, whisked past his chair and seated herself at the edge of the piazza.
The girl's keen blue eyes perceiving, presently, an object in the distance looking like a queer combination of boy and bicycle, she ran out from the dooryard as it approached. ”

“ It was early in the afternoon, and Henry Burns and Harvey and Little Tim stood on the float at Coombs's landing, looking at a sailboat that lay at its berth alongside. It was not exactly a handsome craft; with too great length for its beam, and its lines drawn out so fine astern that it bade fair to be somewhat cranky. It had no cabin, and there was seating room for a large party—a design calculated more for profit than safety. ”

“ The wind freshened a little and the Flyaway drew ahead somewhat faster. There was just the suspicion of a ripple along the sides, and it was pleasant sailing. Two miles up the pond they dropped the sail and anchored; got out the fish lines and tried for bass. After which, Mr. Bangs, a generous host, opened up a huge hamper and spread out a luncheon that made Little Tim's mouth water.
"Nothing like sailing to give one an appetite," exclaimed Mr. Bangs, heartily. "Pitch in, boys. There's plenty of grub. I believe in having enough to eat, I do." ”