Kitabı oku: «The Girls of Hillcrest Farm: or, The Secret of the Rocks», sayfa 14

CHAPTER XXX
THE HILLCREST COMPANY, LIMITED

“Don’t sign it!” shrieked ’Phemie, seeing Aunt Jane, her bonnet on as usual, with a pen in her hand.

“For the good land’s sake, child! how you scart me,” complained the old lady.

“Don’t sign anything, Aunt!” urged ’Phemie. “That man is trying to cheat you,” and she pointed a scornful finger at Professor Spink.

“What do you mean, girl?” demanded the other man present, who was sitting next to Mrs. Hammond. He looked like what he was–a shyster lawyer.

“This girl is crazy,” snarled Spink, glaring at the party of young people.

“So are we all, then,” Harris Colesworth responded. “I assure you, Mrs. Hammond, that these men are trying to trick you.”

“I dunno you, young man; but I do know my own mind. This man, Spink, has finally made me a good offer for Hillcrest Farm.”

“And if you don’t sign that paper at once, ma’am,” suggested the lawyer, softly, “the deal is off.”

“That’s right,” declared Spink, rising. “I’ve made my last offer–take it or leave it.”

“How much do they offer you for the farm, Mrs. Hammond–if that’s not a rude question?” demanded Harris.

“Never you mind!” blustered Spink.

But Aunt Jane stated the amount frankly.

“It’s worth more,” said Harris, sharply.

“I expect it is; but it ain’t worth no more to me,” replied the old lady, calmly.

“I’ll raise their offer a hundred dollars,” said Harris, quickly. “My name’s Colesworth. My father and I are well known here and in Easthampton. We are amply able to pay you cash for the place.”

“Well, now,” observed Aunt Jane, with satisfaction, while the girls stared at the young fellow in wonder, “you are talking business. A hundred dollars more is not to be sneezed at – ”

“We’ll raise the young man’s bid another hundred, Mrs. Hammond,” interposed the lawyer, eagerly. “But you must sign the agreement – ”

“Raise you another hundred,” said Harris.

The lawyer looked at his client for instructions. Professor Spink’s face was of an apoplectic hue and his eyes fairly snapped.

“No, no!” he shouted, pounding one fat fist into his other hand. “I know this smooth swindler. He did me once before just this way. He sha’n’t do it now. He’s got some inside information about that farm. It’s all off! I wouldn’t buy the old place now at any price!”

He grabbed his hat and rushed for the door. The little lawyer followed, seized his coattails, and tried to drag him back; but Professor Spink was the heavier, and he steamed out into the hall, towing the lawyer, opened the door, and finally dashed down the steps. He and his legal adviser disappeared from sight.

“Well, young man,” said Mrs. Hammond, calmly, “I expect you know what you have done? You’ve spoiled that sale for me; I may hold you to your offer.”

“If you want to, I shall not worry,” laughed Harris, sitting down. “But let us tell you all about it, Mrs. Hammond, and then I believe you will think twice before you sell Hillcrest at any price.”

Right in that boarding-house parlor was laid the foundation of the now very wealthy mineral water concern known as “The Hillcrest Company, Limited.” But, of course, it was months before the concern was launched and the wonderfully curative waters of Hillcrest Spring were put upon the market.

For once the fact was established that the mineral spring was there among the rocks at the back of the farm, it was only a matter of searching for it.

The spring was finally located in the very wildest part of the farm–in a deep thicket, where the cattle, or other animals, never went to drink. So the spring was thickly overgrown.

“And by cracky! you can’t blame a cow for not wanting to drink that stuff,” declared Lucas Pritchett when he first tasted the water.

Medicinally, however, it was a valuable discovery. Bottled and put on sale, it was soon being recommended by men high in the medical world.

“The old doctor knew a thing or two, even if he did live back here on the lonesomest hill in the State,” said Aunt Jane. “No! I won’t stay, children. You’ve treated me fust-rate; but give me the town. I want life. I don’t see how Mrs. Castle can stand it. I’d vegetate here in a week and take sech deep root that you couldn’t pull me out with a stump-puller.

“Besides, I’m going to have money enough now to live jest like I want to in town. And I’m going to have one of these automobile cars–yes, sir! I’ll begin to really and truly live, I will. You jest watch me.”

But in her joy of suddenly acquired wealth she did not forget her nieces–the girls who had really made her good fortune possible. Both Lyddy and ’Phemie owned stock in the mineral water company; and then Aunt Jane assured them that when she died they should own the farm jointly. She had only sold the spring rights to the company.

The rest of the corporation consisted of Harris Colesworth and his father, Rufus Castle, his mother, Grandma Castle, Lucas Pritchett and–last but not least–Mother Harrison. The widow had asked the privilege of investing in the stock of the company the fifty dollars that Professor Spink had paid her for her husband’s old desk.

And as that stock is becoming more and more valuable as time goes on, it was not an unwise investment on the widow’s part. As for Lucas, it was by ’Phemie’s advice that the young farmer put his money into the stock of the mineral water concern, instead of into a red-wheeled buggy.

“Wait a while, Lucas,” said ’Phemie, “and you’ll make money enough to own a motor car instead of a buggy.”

“And you’ll take the first ride in it with me?” demanded Lucas, shrewdly.

“Yes! I’ll verily risk my life in your buzz-wagon,” laughed the girl. “But now! that’s a long way ahead yet, Lucas.”

The summer had passed ere all these things were done and said. Nor had the Bray girls lost a single opportunity of making their original venture–that of keeping boarders at Hillcrest–a success.

Lyddy had bought her cooking stove, her chickens had turned out a nice little flock for the next year, the garden had done splendidly, and when the corn was harvested the girls banked a hundred dollars over and above the cost of raising the crop.

Best of all, their father’s state of health had so much improved, during these last few weeks, that the girls could look forward with confidence to his complete restoration, in time, to a really robust condition.

Hillcrest had been his salvation. The sun and air of the mountainside home had finally brought him well on the road to recovery; and the joy his two daughters felt because of this fact can scarcely be expressed in words.

Grandma Castle and the Chadwicks wanted to remain until New Year’s, so the girls got no real vacation. Several automobile parties had now found their way to the house on the hill, and the old-fashioned viands, the huge rooms, open fires, and all the “queer” furniture induced them to return from time to time.

So Lyddy and ’Phemie decided to be prepared for such parties, or for other people who wished to board for a week or so at a time, all winter.

Mr. Bray had grown so much stronger by now that sometimes he expressed his belief that he ought to go back to the shop and earn money, too.

“Wait till next season, Father,” Lydia urged him, softly. “We can all pull together here, and if we have only a measure of good fortune, we shall be independent indeed by next fall.”

The prospect was surely bright–as bright as that which lay before Lyddy and Harris Colesworth one Indian summer day as they strolled down the lane to the highroad.

“I don’t see how Aunt Jane can find this place lonely,” sighed Lyddy, leaning just a little on the young man’s arm, but with her gaze sweeping all the fair mountainside.

“You couldn’t leave it, Lyddy?” he asked, with sudden wistfulness.

“No, indeed! Not for long. No other place would seem like home to me after our experience here. It’s more like home than the house I was born in at Easthampton.

“You see, we have struggled, and worked, and accomplished something here–’Phemie and I. And Aunt Jane says it shall some day be ours–all of Hillcrest. I love it all.”

“Well–I don’t blame you!” exclaimed Harris, suddenly swinging about and seizing her hands. “But, say, Lyddy! don’t be stingy about it.”

“Stingy–about what?” she asked him, rather frightened, but looking up into his sparkling eyes.

“Don’t be stingy with Hillcrest. If you are determined to stay here–all your life long–you know – Don’t you suppose you could find it in your heart to let me come here and–and stay, too?”

Nobody heard Lyddy Bray make an audible reply to this–not even the curious squirrel chattering in the big beech over their heads. But Harris seemed to see just the reply he craved in the girl’s eyes, for he cried, suddenly:

“You dear, you!”

Then they walked on together, side by side, over the carpet of flame-colored leaves.