Mother was the only one to whom I told the whole story of my experience in the "tempest" and of Colton's call.She and I had a long talk.She was as surprised to hear of the five thousand dollar offer as I had been, but that I had refused it did not surprise her.She seemed to take my refusal as a matter of course, whereas I was more and more doubtful of my sanity at the time.Iknew well enough what the opinion of others would be concerning that sanity and I wondered whether or not they might be right.In fact, I rather resented her calm certainty.
"Mother," said I, "you speak as if the offer had been five cents instead of five thousand dollars.""What difference does it make, Boy?" she asked."If it had been only a matter of price you would have sold for six hundred and fifty.That is a good deal more than the land is worth, isn't it.""I suppose so.But five thousand is a small fortune to us.I am not sure that we have the right to refuse it.""Roscoe, if you were alone in this matter--if I were not here to be considered at all--would you have sold the land, no matter what he offered?""I don't know, Mother.I think, perhaps, I should.""I know you would not.And I know the only reason you feel the refusal may be wrong is because you are thinking what the money might do for me.Do you suppose I will permit you to sacrifice a principle you know is right simply that I may have a few more luxuries which I don't need?""But you do need them.Why, there are so many things you need.""No, I don't need one.So long as I have you I am perfectly happy.
And it would not make me more happy to know that you accepted a bribe--that is what it is, a bribe--because of me.No, Boy, you did exactly right and I am proud of you.""I am not particularly proud of myself."
"You should be.Can't you see how differently Mr.Colton regards you already? He does not condescend or patronize now.""Humph! he is grateful because I helped his daughter out of a scrape, that's all.""It is more than that.He respects you because you are what he called you, a man.I fancy it is a new experience to him to find some one, down here at any rate, to whom his millions make absolutely no difference.""I am glad of it.It may do him good."
"Yes, I think it will.And what you told him about the townspeople may do him good, too.He will find, as you and I have found, that there are no kinder, better people anywhere.You remember I warned you against misjudging the Coltons, Roscoe.They, too, I am sure, are good people at heart, in spite of their wealth.""Mother, you are too charitable for this earth--too unworldly altogether.""Haven't you and I reason to be charitable? There! there! let us forget the land and the money.Roscoe, I should like to meet this Miss Colton.She must be a brave girl.""She is brave enough."
"I suppose poor Mr.Carver is in disgrace.Perhaps it was not his fault altogether."This was a trifle too much.I refused to be charitable to Victor.
I heard from him, or of him, next day.I met Captain Jed Dean at the bank, where I had called to see Taylor and inquire concerning how he and Nellie got home from the festival.They had had a damp, though safe, journey, I learned, and the Methodist ladies had cleared seventy-four dollars and eighty-five cents from the entertainment.
Captain Jed entered the door as I left the cashier's gate.
"Ship ahoy, Ros!" hailed the captain, genially."Make port safe and sound after the flood? I'd have swapped my horse and buggy for Noah's Ark that night and wouldn't have asked any boot neither.
Did you see Mullet's bridge? Elnathan says he cal'lates he's got willow kindlin' enough to last him all summer.Ready split too--the lightnin' attended to that.Lute Rogers don't talk about nothin' else.I cal'late he wishes lightnin' would strike your woodpile; then he'd be saved consider'ble labor, hey?"He laughed and I laughed with him.
"I understood Princess Colton was out in the wust of it," went on Captain Jed."Did you hear how her horse ran away?""Yes," I answered, shortly; "I heard about it.""Never stopped till it got half way to West Bayport.The coachman hangin' onto the reins and swearin' at the top of his lungs all the time.'Bije Ellis, who lives up that way, says the road smells like a match factory even yet--so much brimstone in the air.The girl got home somehow or other, they tell me.I cal'late her fine duds got their never-get-over.Nellie says the hat she was wearin'
come from Paris, or some such foreign place.Well, the rain falls on the just and unjust, so scriptur tells us, and it's true enough.
Only the unjust in this case can afford new hats better'n the just, a consider'ble sight.Denboro's lost a promisin' new citizen; did you know it?""Whom do you mean?"
"Hadn't you heard? That young Carver feller shook the dust--the mud, I mean--of our roads off his shoes this mornin'.He went away on the up train."Here was news."The up train?" I repeated."You mean he has gone for good?""I should call it for good, for our good, anyhow.Yes, he's gone.
Went to the depot in Colton's automobile.His majesty went with him fur's the platform.The gang that saw the proceedin's said the good-bys wan't affectin'.Colton didn't shed any tears and young Carver seemed to be pretty down at the mouth.""But what makes you think he has gone for good?" I asked.
"Why, Alvin Baker was there, same as he usually is, and he managed to be nigh enough to hear the last words--if there had been any.""And there were not?"
"Nothin' to amount to much.Nothin' about comin' back, anyhow.
Colton said somethin' about bein' remembered to the young feller's ma, and Carver said, 'Thanks,' and that was all.Alvin said 'twas pretty chilly.They've got it all figgered out at the post-office;you see, Carver was to come back to the meetin' house and pick up his princess, and he never come.She started without him and got run away with.Some of the folks paddlin' home from the festival saw the auto go by and heard the crowd inside singin' and laughin'
