CHAPTER XXI

HARD OF HEARING

"Hello, Lost Tribes. What are ye makin'?"

Zeb looked quickly around, and seeing Abner standing in the doorway, a smile overspread his face.

"Glad to see ye," he replied. "Feelin' better, eh?"

"I haven't been sick. What are ye givin' me, Zeb?"

"Ye haven't, eh? Well, from all accounts, ye've been up to queer pranks of late. How did the sewin'-circle come along?"

"Oh, I see," and Abner sat down upon a box. "Ye've been hearin' somethin'."

Zeb did not reply, but went on quietly with his work.

"What are ye makin', Zeb?"

"What de ye think I'm makin'? A baby carriage?"

"Looks to me like a goose-poke."

"So it is; de ye want one?"

"De ye think I do?" Abner snapped.

"Well, judgin' from ye'r actions yesterday, one wouldn't come fer astray."

"Here, never mind that racket, Zeb. I've had enough of it. What's the news?"

"News! Lots of it: Joe Preston in the hospital, his assailant in jail, Lawyer Rackshaw's been givin' a rat-party, an' Abner Andrews has been holdin' a free entertainment at Mrs. Dugan's. That's some news, isn't it?"

"Ah, git out. I know all about that, an' too much in fact. I want to know how Joe's gittin' along. Have ye heard?"

"Oh, he's on the mend, an' is makin' ready to git after you."

"He is?"

"Sure. He's had Rackshaw up to see him several times already. They're a pair, all right, an' I guess it's up to you to git busy if ye expect to come off with a whole skin."

"H'm," Abner sniffed, "I don't care a snap of me finger fer 'em."

"But ye will, let me tell ye that," and Zeb laid down the stick he was holding in his hand and looked at his neighbor. "Yell lose ye'r place if ye don't do somethin'. Ye must git a lawyer, Abner, to defend ye."

"But I can't afford one, Zeb."

"An' ye can't afford to do without one, it seems to me."

"Mebbe so." And Abner sighed. "Guess I'll have to be me own lawyer as fer as I kin see. I'm pretty glib with the tongue."

"A pretty mess you'd make of it. Why, Rackshaw would wind you up in no time. He's mighty good on a case, so I've been told. An' he's tricky, too. Will stop at nuthin' to gain his point."

Just then an auto went by, filled with men.

"Who kin they be?" Abner enquired, watching the car as it disappeared amid a cloud of dust.

"Must be men from the Capital," was the reply. "There's to be an election soon, an' the members are gittin' busy, so I hear."

"An election! Why, I never heard a word about it."

"Oh, you were too busy with other things, Abner, so ye didn't hear. An', besides, ye don't take the Wire, so how kin ye expect to know what's goin' on?"

"When's the 'lection to take place, Zeb?"

"Next month, an' it's goin' to be a hard fight. That railroad business has put the Government in a bad hole."

"So I've heard. Graftin', eh?"

"I never knew of anythin' like it. Why, every one of the whole bunch, from the premier down, has been gittin' his rake-off."

"I know somethin' about it, Zeb. All them fellers who were in with the government bunch got big slices, whether they did any work or not. One man got ten thousand dollars fer whistlin' the right tune, an' another got over a hundred thousand fer winkin' with his left eye at the right instant. Oh, I've heard lots about it."

"An' it's true, Abner. True as the Gospel. An' them same fellers are comin' to you an' me to ask us to re-elect 'em."

"We won't do it, Zeb."

The latter turned and looked intently at his visitor.

"What about that place of yours, Abner?"

"Well, what about it?"

"Don't ye know? If ye buck that government bunch ye'll not stand a ghost of a chance to git anythin' fer ye'r gravel hill. But they might do somethin' big if ye side with 'em."

"De ye mean to insinuate, Zeb, that they kin buy me?"

"Not exactly that, but ye might make a better deal if ye rub 'em the right way."

"H'm. I'll rub 'em the right way, Zeb. There's only one right way to rub them fellers, an' that's the way I rubbed Joe Preston the other mornin'."

"An' git into trouble, Abner."

"Mebbe so. But when wasn't I in trouble? I've been more or less in trouble ever since I was born, an' I'll be that way as long as there's snakes an' skunks in the country."

Abner rose to his feet, pulled out his pipe, and started to fill it.

"Say, Zeb," he presently began, "I wish ye'd give me a hand this mornin'."

"What is it ye want?"

"Help me to fix up me woodshed, will ye? We've had a big surprise at our house."

"Should say ye had. Twins one night an' triplets the next day. Rapid increase, that. How's the missus?"

Abner struck a match and paid no attention to this sally.

"Yes, we've had a big surprise," he continued. "A team came from town last night with a hull load of cots, mattresses, boxes of clothin' an' dear knows what all."

"Ye don't tell!" Zeb was much interested now. "Where did they come from?"

"Guess it's some of Belle's doin's. She's written to her pa an' some friends, if I'm not mistaken, tellin' 'em about the kids we've taken under our roof, an' they sent the things. Why, the dooryard is filled chock-a-block."

"Where are ye goin' to put 'em, Abner?"

"In the woodshed. It's got to be fixed up, an' I want ye to give me a hand this mornin'. Tildy an' the gals have taken the kids over to the island to pick berries, an' I want to have it all done when they come back. It'll be a kind of surprise."

"What are ye goin' to do?"

"Fix the floor an' walls, an' partition off a part of the shed. It'll make a dang fine place, an' I've got the boards. Will ye give me a hand?"

"Sure," was the ready response. "I'll go right along. I ain't very busy this mornin'. I was only makin' a goose-poke. That gander of mine is a reg'lar old nick fer crawlin' through small holes in the fence. But I guess this'll keep him in, all right."

"It's a pity ye can't make pokes fer men as easy as ye kin fer ye'r old gander, Zeb. I'd order two right off, one fer Ikey Dimock an' t'other fer Lawyer Rackshaw. There should be a law passed makin' goose-pokes necessary fer some people who are allus botherin' their neighbors."

"Ye couldn't git that law passed, Abner."

"Why not?"

"'Cause them who make the laws 'ud be the first ones to use the pokes. They'd be carryin' 'em around all the time."

"Ho, ho, I guess ye'r right, Zeb. But come on, an' let's git at that job."

For two hours the men worked upon the woodshed, and at the end of that time they had made excellent progress. The walls and the floor had been repaired, the partition put up, and the place thoroughly swept.

"There, I guess that's some work," Abner remarked, as he critically surveyed the room. "Doesn't take us long to do a job when we once git at it, eh, Zeb?"

"Let's finish it, though," was the reply. "We might as well fix up the cots while we're about it."

"Sure, an' have everythin' ready when the folks git back. My, won't they be surprised. An' Orphan Home built in two hours! I wonder what them slow-pokes in town would think of that."

They had just begun to carry in the cots, when an auto stopped before the house, and the impatient call of a klaxon sounded forth.

"It's the same men who went by when we were in the shop," Zeb explained. "Must be them members after ye'r vote, Abner. They want ye to go out. Listen to the noise that thing's makin'."

"Jerry'll like that," was the reply. "He must be shiverin' with delight. Let 'em keep it up."

And keep it up they did for a whole minute, while Zeb and Abner went on with their work.

"Hi there," shouted an impatient voice. "Are you deaf?"

Abner winked at Zeb.

"S'pose we let 'em think we are deaf," he suggested. "I don't like their gall. Anyway, we might as well have a little fun, so let's bring down their topsails. They're carryin' too much sail fer sich crafts."

"All right, Abner, I'm game," Zeb agreed. "But be careful."

"Oh, I'll be as keerful as I was with Joe Preston. You jist go on with the work as if ye didn't hear nuthin', an' let me handle this show. But, say, they're runnin' the car into the yard. What impudence!"

When a short distance away from the back door the auto was stopped, and the man who had previously spoken asked why in the devil no one had answered when spoken to. Zeb was hard at work, thus leaving Abner to face the irritated man.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" the stranger roared.

"Hey?" Abner asked, coming close to the car, and putting his left hand up to his ear.

"Why, the old fool's deaf!" the man exclaimed, turning to his companions. "Good Lord! Have I got to yell everything to him! Look here," he shouted, leaning well over the side of the car, "are you Abner Andrews?"

"Oh, huntin' rabbits, are ye?" Abner's face cleared as he spoke. "Well, ye've come to a poor place, an' it's the wrong time of the year, anyway. Better wait till winter. They're good eatin' then."

"I didn't say 'rabbits,'" the man again yelled. "I said 'are you Abner Andrews?'"

"Don't mention it. I allus like to give a lift if I kin. But I advise yez to wait till winter," Abner solemnly replied.

"Oh, h—l!" the man exclaimed in disgust. "What am I to do? He's stone deaf."

"Ask him something else," one of his companions suggested.

"Is this your place?" the man once more roared.

"Is this my face?" Abner queried. "Sure, whose de ye s'pose it is?"

"Your place," the man roared again.

"Oh, place. Well, why didn't ye say so? Sartinly, it's my place. What de ye want to know fer?"

"Will you sell?"

"Have I a well? Yes, and a good one, too. De ye want a drink?"

The other three occupants of the car were highly amused, and made all kinds of remarks.

"Speak louder, Tom," one advised. "You're only whispering."

"Speak yourself, then," was the retort. "Don't you see I'm splitting my lungs shouting to the old fool?"

"Get up closer," another urged with a laugh.

"Ugh! I'm as close as I want to be now. He smells like a pig-pen."

"Why not try that other old cuss," the third suggested, motioning to Zeb. "Surely he's not deaf."

Acting on this advice, the spokesman looked at Abner, and pointed to Zeb, who had just come out of the woodshed. But Abner shook his head.

"He's deaf as a post," was the reply. "He can't hear nuthin'. Ye'll have to talk to me."

Tom fetched a big sigh, looked around in despair, and mopped his perspiring brow.

"What in the world are we to do?" he panted. "We must find out if he will sell, and how much he wants. Dimock's support depends upon our getting this place. I'd let him go to the devil, where he belongs, if election wasn't so near."

"Write out your questions, Tom," came the suggestion. "That's the easiest way."

"Why, sure. We might have thought of it sooner."

Whipping out his note-book and pencil he scribbled down a few lines, and handed the book to Abner. The latter took it, and studied it for a few seconds.

"So yez are the Directors of the Big Draw Railway, eh?" he drawled. "I thought mebbe yez were government heelers. An' yez want to buy my place? Well, that's interestin'."

"Is the gravel good?" Tom again wrote.

"Good," Abner mused, as he carefully studied the words. "Well, I never heard anythin' to the contrary. It was behavin' itself the last time I saw it. It's never done any swearin' or cheatin' to my knowledge. It minds its own bizness, which is more'n I kin say of most people."

These words caused the men in the car to laugh uproariously. Abner seemed surprised at their merriment, and looked enquiringly at the spokesman.

"Have yez all been drinkin'?" he asked. "Better leave it alone, young men. It's bad fer the health."

"We've not been drinking," Tom wrote. "We're as dry as old Parson Jackson. How much gravel have you and how deep is it?"

"Let me see," and Abner scratched his head. "Oh I guess fifty acres, more or less, good gravel. An' it's deep, too. Why, it's as deep as any government grafter ye ever saw, an' as unsartin. It's so shifty ye jist never know what it's goin' to do next."

"Will you sell?" was the next question written.

"Sell? Well, that all depends. I was thinkin' of keepin' the place, as I might want it several hundred years from now. But mebbe it 'ud be as well to git clear of it when the chance comes. If I'm to have a mansion in the sky, as I've heard about, no doubt there'll be lots of ground around the buildin', enough anyway, fer my purpose."

The men in the auto looked at one another in surprise.

"Why, I believe the old chap's batty," one remarked. "He's talking blooming nonsense. He'll have a mansion here on earth pretty soon, with keepers, too, if I'm not much mistaken."

"Never mind that," Tom replied. "All we want is his place, and he can go to the Asylum or to the devil for all I care. I'm sick and tired of the old fool." He then wrote another question.

"How much do you want for your place?"

"How much?" and Abner looked lingeringly over toward the big gravel hill. "Well, I want all I kin git, an' a darn sight more, if ye don't mind."

"But how much?" came the next question.

"How much? Let me see. Oh, I guess fifteen thousand'll do, though I hate to sacrifice the place."

"Fifteen thousand!" the men in the car fairly rose from their seats.

"Too much," Tom wrote.

"So I imagined," Abner drawled. "Too much fer me to git, but not enough fer the grafters, eh? Ye'r willin' to pay one man a hundred thousand fer winkin' at the right minute, an' another fifty thousand fer holdin' his tongue. Ye didn't consider twenty thousand too much to give Ben Slosson fer twelve acres of land, an' most of it mud an' rocks at that, did ye?"

Abner now saw that the men were becoming angry and impatient, and it greatly amused him. All but Tom agreed to leave at once and not waste any more time.

"I'm going to have another crack at him, though," and Tom wrote another question.

"Ye'll give me two thousand, will ye?" Abner queried. "Well, there's nuthin' doin'; then, so yez might as well trot off. It's fifteen thousand or nuthin'."

"But we can expropriate your place," Tom again wrote.

"What's that thing?" Abner asked.

"The Government can take your place and give you what they like. They have the power."

"They have, eh? Well, let 'em try, that's all. Let the hull dang bunch come. I'm the government here, an' I intend to be so. I've paid fer me place, an' until I git what it's worth I intend to keep it. So, good-day to yez all, an' give my compliments to Ikey Dimock, an' thanks fer ye'r personal remarks."

At these words the four men started, while an expression of consternation appeared upon their faces.

"Did you hear what we said?" Tom asked.

"Sure; how could I help it?"

"And you're not deaf?"

"Jist as deaf as he is," and Abner motioned to Zeb.

"You old devil!" Tom roared, now wild with rage. "What did you mean by deceiving us?"

"An' what did yez all mean by comin' here an' tryin' to buy me place fer two thousand dollars, that yez might sell it to the Government fer a big sum, an' divvy up with Ikey Dimock? Tell me that."

"But we didn't," Tom protested. "We are honest men."

"H'm, honest men," Abner snorted. "I've got ears like a deer an' eyes like a hawk. Ye can't fool me with any of ye'r tricks. If I am an' 'old cuss', 'fit fer the lunatic asylum,' an' 'smell like a pig-pen', I've got a few ounces of sense left yit, thank the Lord."

The visitors were completely confounded. They were furious, and made no attempt to conceal their anger. They swore and vowed what they would do. But Abner only smiled in a most tantalizing manner, and stood watching as they backed the car out of the yard and sped rapidly away.

"Well, Zeb, how did she go?" he asked, turning to his companion, who was standing by his side.

"Say, Abner, you should be a politician or an actor," was the reply. "You'd make ye'r fortune at either."

"I'm goin' to make it, Zeb, jist as Abner Andrews, of Ash Pint, an' nuthin' else. I guess a man needs to be a politician or an actor no matter who he is, to keep step with them beauties. Ho, ho, weren't they surprised when I opened up on 'em! Thought we was both deaf, ha, ha. Come in, Zeb, an' let's have dinner on this. Tildy's left some things in the house. 'Old cuss,' 'batty,' 'smells like a pig-pen.' Ho, ho, that's the best yit."