Laura Richards
Pippin; A Wandering Flame
He glanced warily up, and seeing the man's attention engrossed by Mary, took a good look at him. A thin, sharp face, eyes too near together, a straight slit of a mouth; but the nose was what interested Pippin. It was certainly very crooked! A long sharp nose; that must have been a powerful blow which had turned it from the straight course. Pippin's right fist clenched involuntarily, with a reminiscent thrill; the corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes twinkled.
"Green grass!" he murmured again.
"No, I guess we shan't want anything to-morrow!" said Mary, in cool, flute-like tones. "No, you needn't call, thank you. We'll telephone when we need anything."
"Got company, I see!" the man directed an ugly scowl at Pippin. Pippin looked up cheerfully.
"Hello, Nosey!" he said. "That you? Quite a stranger, ain't you?" Again the man's eyes flashed, and this time there was recognition in them; the next moment his face was a wooden mask.
"Guess you've got me!" he said. "Stranger to me, far as I know. That your wheel out there?" He spoke with a curious mixture of eagerness and sullenness.
"Sure thing! Forgot me, have you, Nosey? Say 'Pippin,' and see if you don't fetch it?"
"We don't carry apples at this season," stolidly. "Berries is what we carry now, and early peaches."
"That so? Well, you're a peach, all right, all right. Well, Miss Flower, I expect I – " He was about to rise and make his adieux, when a look from Mary tingled through him to his toes; it said, "Stay!" He settled back in his seat. "I expect I'm ready for those other things you spoke of," he said slowly. "Scissors, was they, or knives?"
"Scissors!" said Mary. "I'll get them!"
She vanished. As the door closed behind her, the man made a step toward Pippin, and spoke low and savagely.
"You quit, do you hear? Quit and stay quit! If I catch you here again, I'll – " he indicated measures which would seriously incommode Pippin's internal economy.
"That so?" said Pippin in an easy drawl. He tilted his chair back on two legs, and smiled amiably at his interlocutor. "Why, Nosey, I'm sorry you feel that way. I never meant to spile it permanent, but it does seem to have got a kind of a twist, don't it? I wouldn't bear malice, though, if I was you!"
" – you!" hissed the man. "I'll have your – "
The door opened; he dropped back against the table, and his face became once more a wooden mask.
Mary, her hands full of scissors, looked from one to the other; her breath came a little quickly, as if she had hurried. "You two gentlemen know each other?" she asked doubtfully.
"Why," said Pippin slowly, "I thought he was a boy I used to know, but he seems to think different. What is your handsome name, Mister, since Nosey Bashford won't do you?"
"My name's Brown!" said the man hoarsely.
"Well, they both begin with B," said Pippin. "I don't know as it matters any."
"Was there anything else you wanted to say, Mr. Brown?" asked Mary civilly.
At this palpable hint, the man could but take up his basket and start for the door. He gave Pippin one venomous look; Pippin replied with a slight but friendly nod.
"So long, bo!" he said cheerfully.
At the door the man paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. He had some extra fine tomato plants in the cart, he said. They was an order for Goodwins, next door, but the boss thought likely Mr. Aymer (Mary's employer) would like some. Wouldn't Mary step out and look at them? 'Twouldn't take but a minute, if she wasn't afraid to leave – a significant glance toward Pippin finished the sentence and decided Mary's answer. She had meant to say, "No!" with some asperity. As it was, she said, "Yes!" and followed him out to the gate, leaving Pippin alone.
Now, the latter asked himself, wouldn't that give you a pain? Honest, now, wouldn't it? What did he suppose that skeezicks was sayin' to her. If he came the give-away, he, Pippin, expected he could give him as good. Even if Dod was dead, and it wasn't likely he was —
If Pippin had been a cultivated person, he would have said,
"The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us!"
Being a plain person, he said, no two ways about it, that was what come of startin' mean. Yes; but, he reminded himself, the start was not of his own making. Let him be straight and keep straight, and things would come round 'cordin' to!
"That's right!" said Pippin aloud. "I'm only makin' a beginnin', so to say. My start is right now, see? Let Dod and Nosey get what they can out of theirs. Last week's dough-scrapin's needn't trouble me!"
Mary came back with her head high, a flush on her cheek and a sparkle in her eye.
"Gorry to 'Liza!" said Pippin, but not aloud. "She looks some-er when she's mad than when she's pleased!"
"Known Nosey long?" asked Pippin, rising as she entered.
"No, nor want to! He's not my style, nor I his. Did you really know him, Mr. Pippin?"
"Did I? Do I know a skunk by the sm – Yes, I knew him when we was boys. 'Twas I give him his crooked nose. I'll tell you about it some day, if you'll let me. I must be goin' now."
Was it quite by accident, I wonder, that Mrs. Aymer came into the kitchen to get a cup of hot water? She greeted Pippin pleasantly, admired the rehabilitated potato knife, thought his must be a pleasant trade in summer weather. She thought it very possible that Mr. Aymer might like his pocketknife sharpened. Could Pippin wait a moment?
"That's what I'm here for!" Pippin smilingly assured her. Mr. Aymer being summoned, shortly appeared: tall, thin, kindly-faced, looking more like a college professor than a hardware dealer. He, too, after looking Pippin well over, praised his skill and discussed various aspects of cutlery with him. They agreed heartily on the fundamental fact that when you wanted a knife, you wanted it good. Followed commendation of certain makes, disparagement of others. Bugler's goods, Pippin opined, wasn't worth the price of the handles; he'd make as good a knife out of lead pipe. Now take Porter's, and there you had a knife. Both men began to glow with responsive ardor, and it required a discreet cough and glance from Mrs. Aymer to convey to both the fact that supper time was drawing near and that Mary had her work to do. Pippin withdrew with many apologies, but not before both householders had cordially asked him to call again. Mary, in her corner, remained demurely mute, but to be sure she had already invited him; and her farewell glance and smile sent him away trailing clouds of glory.
Later, on the comfortable little screened porch, the householders told their guest about the handsome lad who was so clever with tools, and who had evidently "taken such a shine" to their pretty Mary.
"I called John out on purpose!" said the lady. "Of course we feel responsible about Mary; and you liked him, didn't you, John?"
"I certainly did: mighty decent looking fellow. Intelligent, too! Knows good steel when he sees it."
"You ought to have seen him, Lawrence! You are so interested in young men. If he comes again, you must be sure to want your knife sharpened – if this old Conference is going to give you any time for us!" she added with a smiling pout. "Of course if there should be anything serious between him and Mary, we should want to be very careful!"
"Aren't you a little ahead of the game, Lucy?" her husband laughed. "The boy has been here once, I understand – twice? Oh, well! I don't know that Lawrence can count on the wedding fee, even so. But you would like him, Larry, that's a fact. I took to him at once, and you know Lucy thinks me hard to please, especially about young fellows."
"I wish I had seen him!" said the guest heartily. "I've seen nothing but gray heads all day long, and a boy would be refreshing."
But if he had seen Pippin, the course of my story would have been different.
Meanwhile, as they talked, Mary-in-the-kitchen sat on her back steps in the moonlight, and thought her own thoughts. Happy thoughts! Mary was always happy. If some of them were of dark eyes and a kindling smile, of quaintly chosen words – He had as sweet a voice, Mary must say, as ever she heard; she wished Mrs. Aymer had heard him sing; when he came again – oh, yes, he would come. The queer thing was, he didn't seem a bit of a stranger. Appeared like she had known him always.
What would you say, Mary, if you knew that the dark eyes were watching you now, in the shadow of that big elm across the road? You would be surprised, but possibly not displeased, Mary? Ah! But what if another pair of eyes were watching, too, sharply, eagerly, greedily; little red eyes, set too near together across a crooked nose? What then, Mary-in-the-kitchen?
CHAPTER XVI
PIPPIN ENCOUNTERS THE GIDEONS
PIPPIN spent the evening sitting on the edge of his bed, whistling on his file, as was his custom when perturbed in spirit, and taking counsel with himself. He had had a shock. Two hours ago, after leaving the white house, he felt the need of a pipe; a smoke of tribute, call it, to whatever gods might be interested in youth and beauty, in dimples and waving hair. Nearly opposite the house, across the lane, was a huge elm whose branches drooped low over the roadside. Its roots formed a comfortable seat neatly cushioned with moss. Pippin had already observed this natural retreat; now he sought it, and lighting his pipe, was at peace with the world.
Silently he communed with himself about the "young lady." He did not venture to think of her by any other title, though it must be confessed that he said "Mary" to himself now and then, just to be sure that it sounded like the prettiest name in the world, though of course he always knew it was. And he always knew – now, how did he know it was her name? – that she could have no other. If Pippin had put his thoughts into words – but he could not! His heart beat quick and hard in his ears, and there was something the matter with his breathing; and anyway, who was he to set up thinking of her at all? But if he had found words, they might have shaped themselves thus.
Honest, now! Had he ever, in all his life, seen a young lady that was a patch on her? Believe him, nix! It wasn't only her looks, though they was out of sight, clear; it was the way she moved, and spoke – notice how the corners of her mouth curled up round the words as if she loved 'em – And the sound of her voice, and the goodness that shined right out of her – my! my! that lamp is burnin' all right, all right! He paused, for beside the bright face that shone so clear before him, he seemed to see another, a face no less fair, more perfect indeed in line and tint and carving, but, as he had once said, like a lamp unlighted. "Poor Flora May!" he murmured. "Poor gal! Now wouldn't that young lady be a sister to her if she had the chance? You bet she would!"
Thus musing, he chanced to look up, and was aware of a man coming slowly along the road; very slowly, with a singular gait, half limp, half lurch. He was dressed like a day laborer, and carried a dinner pail; a pickaxe was slung over his shoulder. It was the gait that caught Pippin's eye; he stopped building air-castles, and looked narrowly at the advancing figure.
The man shambled slowly along, and paused near the gate of the white house. Drawing out a clay pipe, he proceeded to light it; a clumsy business he made of it, fumbling long for his matches, then making several vain attempts to strike a light, his eyes meantime roaming over house and grounds with sharp, searching glances. Pippin, always so ready to help, might easily have given him a light – but a moment before Pippin had extinguished his own pipe with a swift, silent motion. He sat perfectly still under his tree, not to be distinguished from it in the dusk, under the drooping branches, his eyes riveted to the slouching figure. So absorbed was he that he saw nothing of the quiet approach of another figure, until it stood close beside the first; a lighter, slimmer figure, that of a young man. Pippin could see no more till the newcomer, turning his profile to the rising moon, displayed a crooked nose.
If the two exchanged words, it was in a whisper so low that Pippin could not catch it. The younger man also pulled out a pipe, and seemed to ask for a light; there was more fumbling and scratching, then the elder nodded slightly and went limping and lurching along the road.
Why did the younger man linger? Why did he, too, slip under a drooping tree – not fifty feet away from Pippin's own, I declare – and stand there, silent and hidden as Pippin himself?
Why, Pippin, a man may have feelings, even if his nose is crooked. If a pretty girl comes out to sit on her steps and look at the rising moon and think sweet, girl-moonlight thoughts, why – be reasonable, Pippin! Why should not Nosey Bashford like to watch her as well as you? Nosey's nose is shockingly crooked, and his eyes are crooked, too, little and red and too near together; he is crooked inside and out, but he has his feelings, and it is well for you, Pippin, seeing that you are entirely unarmed, whereas Nosey is never without a sandbag or a brass knuckle or some such pretty trifle, that he does not know of your being only fifty feet away from him.
"That's right!" said Pippin, sitting on his bed, as above mentioned, whistling on his file; "that may be all so, and likely 'tis: but that don't explain Dod happenin' along just that minute, nor yet them two with their heads together. Dod has aged some – well, he would! Must be sixty year old, or nigh it – but he don't look no handsomer nor no – well, say piouser – than he did. What I say is, I believe them two has a game on. I hate to keep the Old Man waitin', but I rather guess I'll have to hang round here a spell, and see what they're up to. What say?"
When in need of sympathy, Pippin was apt to call up his dream family and demand it of them, never failing of a response. He did so now, and Ma, blue-eyed and pink-cheeked, and Pa, brown and stalwart, appeared promptly. Pippin, absurd fellow that he was, saw them sitting beside him, and appealed to Pa to confirm his last remark. Pa said he was right, things did appear to squint that way a mite. He expected Pippin had better keep his eye on them two.
"But I stuck him out!" Pippin slapped his thigh joyously. "I stuck him out, folks! And I would have if he'd have set there all night. Another thing!" His voice was grave again. "Notice what happened just before he left? Why, the Boss – Mr. Aymer, that is – come home. Didn't you hear some one step kind of quick along the sidewalk front of the house, whistlin' a little, but not so as to disturb folks, and then the latchkey rattle a mite as he put in? I tell you, 'twasn't all feelin's in Nosey's. He wanted to know what time the Boss was liable to come home, and he found out. Oh, they're smart, Bashfords; you got to keep your eye peeled when you watch them!"
Pippin stopped suddenly. Some one seemed to be talking; Ma this time, her blue eyes bright and serious. Had he looked for grace in them two?
"Green grass!" Pippin laughed aloud. "Grace, in Bashford's gang! If there's as much grace in e'er a one of 'em as would raise a biscuit, one solitary, little weeny biscuit, I'll – I'll – "
He stopped again, for again the voice seemed to speak.
"I didn't know as the Elder made any exception. Fellow creatures, he said – "
Pippin dropped his head. If he had been differently brought up, he might have beaten his breast and cried, "Mea culpa!" As it was, he said, "Green grass!" again, several times. The last exclamation was in a different tone. He raised his head, and his eyes shone.
"I'll try!" he said. "Honest, I will! Now behooves me get a mite o' sleep. But first – "
The room was a small and plain one, in a meek by-street which had to work hard to prove that it was not a slum, but did prove it. There were curtains in most of the windows, faded, patched, darned, but whole and clean (Mrs. Morrissey's were Nottingham lace, the street would have you know, but then Mr. Morrissey was on the Force), and not a house but had a geranium or a straggle of nasturtiums in window-box or tin can or broken pitcher.
Besides all this, not a lodging room in the street but had a Bible; the Gideons had seen to that. Pippin took the fat black book from the little light-stand beside the bed. He had his own little Testament that Elder Hadley had given him, but this was handy by, and besides, he admired to read about them Old Testament guys. Elijah was "some," he thought; as for Elisha, he had no opinion of him. Gettin' them kids all stove up just because they was a mite cheeky! Likely he was bald-headed!
The volume opening at the title page revealed a printed slip pasted inside the cover, on which Pippin read as follows:
This Holy Book, whose leaves display
the Life, the Light, the Truth, the Way,
is placed in this room by
The Gideons,
The Christian Commercial Travelers' Association of America,
Aided by
The Christian Forces of this City
with the hope also that by means of this Book
many may be brought to know the love of
Christ which passeth knowledge
The Ancient Gideon's Test and Triumph – Judges 6 and 7.
The Modern Gideon's Motto – Judges 7:21.
The Greatest Sermon ever preached – Matthew 5, 6, and 7.
BLESSED TRUTH – ACCEPT IT – Luke 19:10; John 3:16.
The Supreme Sacrifice for all – Isaiah 53.
The Universal Invitation to all – Isaiah 55.
If lonesome or blue and friends untrue, read Psalms 23 and 27, Luke 15.
If trade is poor, read Psalm 37, John 15.
If discouraged or in trouble, read Psalm 126; John 14.
If you are all out of sorts, read Hebrews 12.
If you are losing confidence in men, read I Cor. 13.
If skeptical, read John 6:40, 7:17; Phil. 2:9-11.
If you can't have your own way, read James 3.
If tired of sin, read Luke 18:9-14, 35-43, John 9.
If very prosperous, read I Cor. 10:12, 15.
The WONDERFUL RESULT – Isaiah 35 – Psalm 121 – Romans 12.
We earnestly solicit free-will offerings for the aid of our
Bible work
Christian Traveling Men, Join Us, Help Us
For particulars, inquire of any man wearing the button, or
THE GIDEONS,
22 West Quincy Street, Chicago, Ill
"Green grass!" said Pippin. "Now wouldn't that – " He read it again, slowly and carefully. "Now wouldn't that – well, the reverse of give you a pain! Lemme see! What fits me special in this outfit?" His finger following the table of contents, Pippin knit his brows and set his teeth, murmuring as he went, "'If trade is poor,' – that ain't me! I made three dollars to-day, and two yesterday. Fifteen a week wouldn't be far from it, and five of that in the bank reg'lar every week. I tell you!
"'If discouraged or in trouble;' nope!
"'If you are all out of sorts;' not a mite!
"'If you are losing confidence in man' – There! Isn't that a leadin'? Bet your life!" said Pippin. He turned to the appointed passage and read:
"'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
"'And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
"'And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.'
"I expect that is so," said Pippin gravely. "I certainly expect that that is so, and I will act as near that as is give me, 'cordin' to. Say I learn it off, so I'll have it handy by and not forget it, what say? 'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling – '"
At this point there was a rap on the wall, and an angry voice asked whether there was a prayer meeting going on, or what? Couldn't a man get a wink of sleep without condemned galoots hollering their prayers through a megaphone?
"I'm real sorry, brother!" said Pippin pacifically. "I didn't know I'd riz my voice."
"Riz your voice! You go hire yourself out as foghorn to a Sound boat, and you'll make your fortune!"
"You've got a powerful organ of your own," replied Pippin. "If you'd like to have a prayer meetin', I'd be pleased to have you join in. Are you a Gideon?"
"Are you a goat that wants its hide took off?" roared the other. "If you don't shut your head – "
"I've shut and padlocked it! I'm just whisperin' through a knothole. Go to by-by, bo! Pleasant dreams!"
Pippin's chance came the very next day. As he was carrying Nipper past the white house – he was not going in, but somehow his way seemed to lie mostly through the lane – the grocery wagon stood at the gate, and even as he looked, the door opened and shut, rather hastily, and the crooked-nosed man – his given name was William, by the way – came out with his empty basket. He greeted Pippin with a scowl that blackened his never too attractive face. Pippin gave him a friendly nod.
"Mornin', Nosey!" he said.
Nosey's only reply was a snarl that might have meant anything – except friendliness.
"Say, Nosey, quit the grouch, what? I'm sorry I sp'iled your beak, bo. There! I'd mend it if I knew how, honest I would!"
Nosey's reply was intelligible this time, but unprintable. It was to the general effect that if Pippin didn't light out pretty condemned quick, he would "get his," whatever that might mean.
"That so?" said Pippin. "All right, bo! I just wanted to say that I hadn't no grouch against you. I'm on the straight now, Bill, see? Mebbe you are, too?"
"Yes, you are!" with an ugly sneer. "You and your wheel! You look out, that's all I say to you! Gidap!" The last remark was addressed to the horse, and was accompanied by a savage blow of the whip; the startled animal sprang forward and the wagon rattled out of sight.
"Well, I tried!" said Pippin. "Honest, I did!"
A day or two after, Mrs. Appleby received a letter that puzzled her somewhat. It was signed, "Yours in the Lord, Pippin," and was to the effect that she was please not to be sore because the writer had to hold up that job a mite. He would pull it off quick as he could, but they was some guys trying to make a deal out of some folks he knew that was dandy folks, he could tell her, and he felt a call to hang round a spell so as he would be ready in case an extra hand was needed, for them guys was mean as they grow, and if that young lady or her boss come to any harm, he'd never get over it, sure thing. But quick as he got this off his chest, he'd make tracks for Shoreham and get that letter, if it took a leg.
Mrs. Appleby smiled over this effusion, which was carefully written on heavily ruled paper. The handwriting was stiff and official – had not Pippin learned to write in the office of the Warden, under the eye of that kindly potentate? – the spelling occasionally quaint, but she seemed well pleased as she laid it away methodically.
"I am sure that boy is genuine!" she said with a little nod. "I would trust him – what is it, Jane?"
A pupil-teacher was standing before her, red-cheeked, round-eyed, and out of breath.
"Jimmy 'as run away again, Mam!"
"Jimmy! dear! dear! Played hookey from school, you mean?"
"Yes, Mam! I 'ad 'im be the 'and" – Jane was but one remove from London – "and we was steppin' along quite-like, wen 'e 'eard a horgan, and 'e was horf!"
"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Appleby again. "That is the third time; I will notify the police at once." Stepping to the telephone, she gave notice of the truant, "Ten years old, small and wiry, red hair and freckles; khaki pants, gray flannel shirt; will probably answer to any name except his own, which is James Mather. Do have him found, Mr. Inspector! He isn't a bad boy, and he is sure to have the nightmare to-night."
Turning back, she spoke to Mrs. Faulkner who was just entering the room.
"Jimmy Mather has run away again, Mrs. Faulkner! I really don't know what to do with the boy."
"I should send him to the Farm School!" said Mrs. Faulkner promptly. "He is a very bad influence here. Last evening, when the cook was going to church, he pinned a dishcloth to her cloak, and she never found it out till she got back. She has given notice. I was just coming to tell you. I think she will stay if the boy is sent away."
"Little Jim!" cried Mrs. Appleby. "Oh, Mrs. Faulkner! He is too young for the Farm School, even if – "
"Mary is a very valuable woman!" said Mrs. Faulkner severely. "It is matter of knowledge to me that she has been offered fifteen dollars a week, and we get her for ten because of her little niece being here. James Mather is worth nothing at all that I can see, and is a nuisance besides."
"Oh, Mrs. Faulkner!" said Mrs. Appleby again.
As she stood perplexed, what was this vision that flashed suddenly before her eyes? Two brown, bright eyes in a face that seemed to smile all over, brow to chin; a musical voice saying,
"There's a kid I like! I could do something with that kid if I had him!"
"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Appleby aloud. "I do wish he would!" and happening to glance out of the window, she saw Pippin entering the courtyard with Jimmy Mather beside him. Yes, things happen that way sometimes. Mrs. Appleby did not try to analyze her feeling of relief when Mrs. Faulkner was called out of the room just as Pippin entered it.
"Run straight into me!" said Pippin, when the culprit had been welcomed, rebuked, provisionally pardoned and sent to bed. "Follerin' a Dago with an organ and a monkey. Gee! Run just the way I used to run after a monkey. I knew the pup in a minute, and I had him by his slack and scruff before he knew what had got him. Green grass! he was surprised, that kid was! Then he bawled, and wanted to go with me, but nix on that, so I said I'd fetch him home, and he come along like pie. But say, lady, you rec'lect what I told you that day?"
"I was just thinking of it when you came in! Your coming seemed providential."
"Can you show me anything that ain't, in a manner of speakin'? Well, I say it again. This is a dandy place for some kids, but it's no place for that one. You want to let me take him – "
"Where? Where would you take him, Pippin?"
"To Cyrus Poor Farm!"
"A poorhouse?" The matron's face fell.
"It's that, but it's more than that, and it's goin' to be more than what it is now. Leave me have that boy and a dozen more like him, and gee! I tell you we'll make things hum there to Cyrus! That's the kind I want; smart little kids, the kind that makes the smartest crook. Catch 'em little, and make 'em grow straight instead of crooked – what do you know about that? Wouldn't that be mince pie atop of roast turkey and cranberry sauce? I tell you!"
Thus Pippin, glowing with ardor, sure that everyone must see his project as he saw it; but now the gay fire died out of his face. "I forgot!" he said. "I can't take him just yet, lady. I – you got a letter from me? Did? Well, there's where it is, you see! I ain't free to go just yet. This job to Mr. Aymer's – "
"Mr. Who?" Mrs. Appleby started.
"Mr. Aymer: John E. Lives corner of Smith and Brown Street. Maybe you might know him, Mis' Appleby? They sure are dandy folks!"
"I know Mr. Aymer," drily. "How came you to know him, Pippin?"
"There's a young lady works for him!" Pippin was blushing hotly, but he met the inquiring look bravely. "Miss Flower, her name is. I happened along by – in the way of business, you understand – and she had a carver needed sharpenin', and so we made acquaintance. She's – well, there! Mebbe you might know her, too? Do?" as Mrs. Appleby nodded. "Now isn't that great! Well, honest now, isn't she – did you ever see a dandier young lady than that?"
"She is a nice girl!" Mrs. Appleby's mouth was under strict control, but her eyes twinkled. "Have you been at the house more than once? You say you have met Mr. Aymer – and Mrs. Aymer?"
"I have, ma'am! They were more than kind to me, I must say. Yes, I've been there four or five times. I – I didn't do all the knives the first day I was there, nor yet the second. Their knives was in poor shape – " He paused and looked helplessly into the kind, shrewd gray eyes. "I – I don't know as I was in any too great hurry about them knives!" he faltered. "I – fact is, I give consid'able time to 'em; took a couple one day and another couple another. Pleasant place, and nice folks, you understand – and – I told you about them two mean guys – "
Mrs. Appleby said she did understand. And what did Pippin propose to do next? she asked. Why, that was just what he was studyin' over; he was just puttin' that up to himself when he ran across the kiddo just now. Whether to wait round a bit and watch till he was a mite surer than what he was – and yet he was sure, knowin' them two and their ways – or up and tell the Boss thus and so, and let him do as he der – as he thought fit.
"I've got a hunch," said Pippin, "that I'd better tell him right away. What say?"
"I say you are right!" Mrs. Appleby spoke with decision.
"I'll do it! I'll do it before I sleep to-night. Maybe he'll think of some way to hasten matters up a mite. If they're goin' to do him up, I wish't they'd get at it, so's we can round 'em up and me get off on my business. Not but it is my business to stop such doin's every time I see a chance. I wish you good mornin' lady, and I'm a thousand times obliged to you."
He departed, and Mrs. Appleby sat down and wrote a note to Miss Mary Flower, care of John E. Aymer, Esq., Cor. Smith and Brown Streets, City.
