Read Ebook: To the Highest Bidder by Kingsley Florence Morse Rae John Illustrator

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Ebook has 2056 lines and 69625 words, and 42 pages

"No, it's my birfday; but I got Barb'ra a birfday present with my fi' cents. I'm six."

"Sure!" cried Peg. "Anybody'd know you was six, Cap'n, jus' to look at you! Six, an' large an' hefty fer your age. You bet they would! What sort of birthday present did you get for Barb'ry--hey?"

"If you'll keep the molasses from spillin' over I'll show it to you," offered Jimmy. "It's a beautiful picture."

"Wall, now I vow!" exclaimed Peg, when the pink string had been carefully untied and the sparkling Christmas tree exposed to view. "'I wish you a merry Christmas,'" he read slowly. "Say, that's great, Cap'n! Mos' folks fergit all about merry Christmas long before spring. But they hadn't ought to. Stan's to reason they hadn't. They'd ought to be merrier in April 'an in December, 'cause the goin's better an' it's 'nuffsight pleasanter weather. I'll bet Barb'ry'll be tickled ha'f to death when she sees that."

"It sparkles, don't it, Peg?"

"Mos' puts my eyes out," acquiesced the man. "It's all kin's an' colors o' sparkles. It cert'ly is a neligant present. D'ye want to drive while I do it up fer ye?"

Jimmy took the reins.

"I won't let 'em run away," he said gravely.

"Run away?" chuckled Peg. "I'd like to see 'em run away with you a-holt o' the lines. They wouldn't das to try it."

"I s'pose I'll be able to work the farm before long, Peg," observed Jimmy, after a short silence, during which he sternly eyed the bobbing heads of the old farm horses. "I'm pretty old now, an' I'm gettin' taller every day."

"H'm!" grumbled Mr. Morrison. "I guess the' ain't no 'special hurry 'bout your takin' charge o' the farm, Cap'n. Me an Barb'ry's makin' out pretty well; an' you know, Cap'n, you've got to go to school quite a spell yet."

Jimmy knit his forehead.

"I guess there is some hurry," he said slowly. "I've got to grow up's quick's I can."

The man looked down at the valiant little figure at his side with a queer twist of his weather-beaten face.

"Did--Barb'ry tell you that?" he wanted to know after a short silence.

"No," said Jimmy, shaking his head, "Barb'ra didn't tell me. I--just thinked it. You see, it's this way," he went on, with a serious grown-up air, "I'm all Barb'ra's got, an' Barb'ra's all I've got. We've just got each other; an'--an'--the farm."

Peg pursed up his lips in an inaudible whistle. "You wasn't thinkin' of givin' up the farm--you an' Barb'ry; was you?" he inquired presently.

"What? Me an' Barb'ra give up the--farm?" echoed Jimmy, in a shocked little voice. "Why--we couldn't do that."

Jimmy shook his blond head vigorously.

"We couldn't live anywhere else," he said decidedly. "It's--why, it's our home!"

Peg had taken the reins and the wagon jolted noisily between the tall stone gate-posts, past the big elms and the groups of untrimmed evergreens, to where the house stood on its low grassy terrace, a gravelled driveway encircling it. It was a wide, low, old-fashioned house with narrow porches and small-paned windows, glittering in the sun like little fires. Obviously the house had not been painted for a long time; and its once dazzling walls and green shutters had softened with time and uncounted storms into a warm silvery gray which lent a certain dignity to its square outlines.

Jimmy climbed down over the wheel and dashed excitedly into the house.

"I've come, Barb'ra!" he shouted imperiously. "Where are you, Barb'ra?"

The door of the sitting-room opened and a young woman came out. She was tall and slender, with masses of warm brown hair, a red mouth, and a brilliantly clear pale skin; her gray eyes under their long dark lashes were wide and angry, but they softened as they fell upon the small figure in the red tam.

"Hush, Jimmy," said the girl, stooping to kiss the child's red mouth. "There's--someone here. I--can't stop now. Go and get warm in the kitchen. I'll come presently."

She opened a door peremptorily and the child passed through it, his bright face clouded with disappointment.

But the girl had already closed the door behind her; he could hear her speak to someone in the sitting-room. There followed the sound of a man's voice, speaking at length, and the low-toned murmur of a brief reply. Jimmy laid the small flat parcel containing the postal card on the kitchen table, and set the pail of molasses on a chair. There was a froth of sweetness all around the edge now, but Jimmy didn't care. Vaguely heavy at heart he walked over to the window and looked out. Hitched to the post near the lilac bushes was a tall bay horse with a cropped tail. Behind the horse was a shining sidebar buggy with red wheels. The horse was stretching his sleek neck in an effort to reach the tender green shoots of the lilac bushes, his cropped tail switching irritably from side to side. Jimmy stared with round eyes.

Presently the side door opened and Stephen Jarvis came out quickly, jamming his gray felt hat low upon his forehead. He untied the horse, jerking the animal's head impatiently to one side as he did so, and stepped to the high seat; then, at a savage cut of the whip, the horse darted away, the gravel spurting from under his angry hoof-beats.

"I'm glad I'm not that horse," mused Jimmy, "an' I'm glad--" he added, after a minute's reflection--"'at I'm not--him."

He was still thinking confusedly about the short-tailed horse and his owner, when he heard Barbara's step behind him.

The girl stooped, put both arms about the little boy, and laid her hot cheek on his. Then she laughed, rather unsteadily.

"Kiss me quick, Jimmy Preston!" she cried. "I want to be loved--hard!"

The child threw both arms fervently about his sister's neck. "I love you," he declared circumstantially, "wiv all my outsides an' all my insides! I love you harder'n anyfing!"

FOR a long time after the last hoof-beat of the ill-tempered horse with the cropped tail had died away on the gravelled drive Barbara sat with the child in her arms, his curly head close against her cheek; her gray eyes bright with tears resolutely held in check.

"Aren't you gettin' some tired of holdin' me?" inquired Jimmy, with a stealthy little wriggle of protest. "You know I'm six, an' Peg says I'm hefty for my age."

Barbara laughed faintly, and the little boy slipped from her arms with alacrity and stood before her, eyeing her searchingly.

"I bought you a birfday present with my fi' cents," he said, "but you wouldn't wait to see it."

"You bought me a birthday present?" cried Barbara. "Why, Jimmy Preston! Show it to me; I can't wait a minute longer."

Jimmy walked soberly across to the table. The first glow of his enthusiasm had vanished, and he frowned a little as he untied the pink string.

"Like it, boy! I should say so! It's the most beautiful birthday present I ever had." Barbara spoke with convincing sincerity and her eyes suddenly wrinkled with fun--the fun Jimmy loved. "I'd really like to kiss you six times--and one to grow on, if you'll allow me, sir," she said.

Jimmy considered this proposition for awhile in silence. "You don't kiss Peg," he objected at last.

"Mercy no! I should hope not!" laughed Barbara.

She seized the child firmly and planted four of the seven kisses on his hard pink cheeks. "Now two more under your curls in the sweet place," she murmured. "And the last one in the sweetest place of all!" And she turned up his round chin and sought the warm white hollow beneath like a homing bee.

"I guess I'll be some sweeter after I eat six popcorn balls," observed Jimmy, disengaging himself. "The molasses didn't spill much."

"Well, I'm glad of that!" cried Barbara. "I guess I'd better get to work. You run out and bring in some chips from the woodpile, and I'll have that molasses boiling before you can spell Jack Robinson."

"J-a-c-k," began Jimmy triumphantly; but Barbara chased him out of doors with a sudden access of pretended severity.

"You're getting altogether too clever for me, Jimmy Preston!" she said. Then her face clouded swiftly at the recollection of Stephen Jarvis's parting words.

"What do you propose to do with the boy?" he had asked.

"Take care of him," she had replied defiantly, "and save the farm for him."

It was then that Jarvis had risen, crushing his gray felt hat angrily between his hands.

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