Hepsey Burke Part 27

Bascom colored hotly, and sputtered:

"I consider it a shame and a disgrace to the parish to have our rector in filthy clothes, drawing stone with a lot of ruffians."

Maxwell colored as hotly, and replied:

"They are not ruffians, sir; they are honest men, supporting their families in a perfectly legitimate way, giving their labor and"--significantly--"receiving their pay for it."

"And you, sir, are engaged to work for the parish, as a minister of G.o.d."

"Unfortunately, I am not being paid by the parish; that is why I am working here. Neither my wife nor myself is going to starve."

"You haven't any pride, sir!" Bascom fumed, his temper out of control.

"We have had many incompetent rectors, but this really surpa.s.ses anything. We have never had anyone like you."

Maxwell paused again in his work, and, leaning on his shovel, looked Bascom in the eye:

"By which you mean that you have never had anyone who was independent enough to grip the situation in both hands and do exactly what he thought best, independent of your dictation."

"I will not converse with you any more. You are insulting."

"As the corporation is paying me for my time, I prefer work to conversation."

Bascom strode along the road towards his home. Danny Dolan, who had been a shameless auditor of this conversation, from the other side of the wagon, was beside himself with delight:

"Holy Moses! but didn't you give it to the old man. And here be all your adorers from town after comin' to tea at the house, and you lookin' like the stoker of an engine with black grease half an inch thick on your cheek."

Maxwell pulled out his handkerchief, and made an abortive effort to get his face clean.

"How is it now, Danny?"

"Oh, it 'aint nearly as thick in any one place; it's mostly all over your face now." Then Danny laughed irreverently again. "Sure, an' you certainly do look like the real thing now."

Maxwell was raking gravel when the guests for the afternoon tea were pa.s.sing; and though he did not look up, he fully realized that they had recognized him, from the buzz of talk and the turning of heads.

Danny returned from his safer distance when he saw the coast was clear. Maxwell had a shrewd suspicion that the boy had taken himself off believing it might embarra.s.s Maxwell less if any of the ladies should speak to him.

"Did none of 'em know you, then?" he asked.

"Not one of them spoke; I guess my disguise is pretty complete."

"Thank hiven!" Danny exclaimed. "Then the crisis is pa.s.sed for to-day at least, and your reputation is saved; but if you don't get out of this they'll be comin' out again, and then n.o.body knows what'll happen. Better smear some more oil over the other cheek to cover the last bit of dacency left in you."

At the end of the day's work, Maxwell threw his shovel into Dolan's wagon and jumped up on the seat with him and drove back to town.

"Well," said Maxwell's friend, delightedly, "you done a mighty good day's work for a tenderfoot; but you done more with that old Bascom than in all the rest of the day put together. My! but I thought I'd split my sides to see you puttin' him where he belonged, and you lookin' like a coal heaver. But it's a howlin' shame you didn't speak to them women, goin' all rigged up for the party. That would've been the finis.h.i.+n' touch."

He swayed about on his seat, laughing heartily, until they drew up before the rectory, where Mrs. Betty was waiting to greet Maxwell.

Danny touched his cap shyly--but Betty came down to the wagon and gave him a cheery greeting.

"Well--you've brought him back alive, Mr. Dolan, anyway."

"Yes ma'am! And I reckon he'll keep you busy puttin' the food to him, if he eats like he works: he's a glutton for work, is Mr. Maxwell."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XXI

UNINVITED GUESTS

A few nights later, when Maxwell returned from his work he found Mrs.

Burke sitting on the front platform of the tent with Mrs. Betty; and having washed, and changed his clothes, he persuaded their visitor to stay to supper. After supper was over they sat out doors, chatting of Maxwell's amusing experiences.

They had not been sitting long when their attention was attracted by a noise up the street, and going to the fence they saw a horse, over which the driver evidently had lost control, galloping towards them, with a buggy which was swerving from side to side under the momentum of its terrific speed.

Maxwell rushed into the middle of the street to see if he could be of any a.s.sistance in stopping the horse and preventing a catastrophe; but before he could get near enough to be of any service the animal suddenly s.h.i.+ed, the buggy gave a final lurch, overturned, and was thrown violently against a telegraph pole. The horse, freed, dashed on, dragging the shafts and part of the harness. The occupant of the buggy had been thrown out against the telegraph pole with considerable force, knocked senseless, and lay in the gutter, stained with blood and dirt. Mrs. Burke and Betty lifted the body of the buggy, while Maxwell pulled out from under it the senseless form of a man; and when they had turned him over and wiped the blood from his face, they discovered, to their utter amazement, that the victim was no less a personage than the Senior Warden, Sylvester Bascom.

Of course there was nothing to be done but to carry him as best they could into the tent, and lay him on a lounge. Maxwell ran hastily for a doctor, while Hepsey and Mrs. Betty applied restoratives, washed the face of the injured man, and bound up as best they could what appeared to be a serious wound on one wrist, and another on the side of his head. The doctor responded promptly, and after a thorough examination announced that Bascom was seriously hurt, and that at present it would be dangerous to remove him. So Mrs. Betty and her guest removed Maxwell's personal belongings, and improvised a bed in the front room of the tent, into which Bascom was lifted with the greatest care.

Having done what he could, the doctor departed, promising to return soon. In about twenty minutes there were signs of returning consciousness, and for some time Bascom looked about him in a dazed way, and groaned with pain. Mrs. Burke decided at once to remain all night with Mrs. Betty, and a.s.sist in caring for the warden until Virginia could arrive and a.s.sume charge of the case. After about an hour, Bascom seemed to be fully conscious as he gazed from one face to another, and looked wonderingly at the canvas tent in which he found himself. Mrs. Burke bent over him and inquired:

"Are you in much pain, Mr. Bascom?"

For a moment or two the Senior Warden made no answer; then in a hoa.r.s.e whisper he inquired:

"Where am I? What has happened?"

"Well, you see, something frightened your horse, and your buggy was overturned, and you were thrown against a telegraph pole and injured more or less. We picked you up and brought you in here, cleaned you up, and tried to make you as comfortable as possible. The doctor has been here and looked you over, and will return in a few minutes."

"Am I seriously injured?"

"You have two bad wounds, and have evidently lost a good deal of blood; but don't worry. Mrs. Betty and I and the rest of us will take good care of you and do all we can until Virginia is able to take you home again."

"Where am I?"

A curious expression of mild triumph and amus.e.m.e.nt played across Mrs.

Burke's face as she replied:

"You are in Donald Maxwell's tent. This was the nearest place where we could bring you at the time of the accident."

For a moment a vestige of color appeared in Bascom's face, and he whispered hoa.r.s.ely:

"Why didn't you take me home?"

"Well, we were afraid to move you until the doctor had examined you thoroughly."