The Young Surveyor Part 40

Mr. Wiggett also arrived, with Zeph, and helped get away the last of the logs.

Under the logs was the crushed sh.e.l.l of the linter; and all looked anxiously, to see what was under that.

A good many things were under it,--pots and kettles, wash-tubs, milk-pans (badly battered), churn and cheese-press, bed and trundle-bed,--but no Peakslow.

It was a disappointment, and yet a relief, not to find him there, after all. But where was he? Dud ran back to the field, to look for him; while the others rested from their labors.

"Did the wind do you much damage, Mr. Wiggett?" Lord inquired.

"Not so much as it mout," replied the old man. "It was mighty suddent.

Banged if I knowed what in seven kingdoms was a-gwine to happen. It roared and bellered that orful, I didn't know but the etarnal smash-up had come."

"It must have pa.s.sed pretty near your house,--I saw it swing that way,"

said Jack.

"Wal, I reckon you're right thar, young man. It jest took holt o' my cabin, an' slewed one corner on't around about five or six inches; an'

done no more damage, in partic'lar, fur's I can diskiver; only, of course, it discomfusticated that ar' noon-mark. I left the ol' woman mournin' over that!"

Jack laughed, and promised to replace the noon-mark.

"There's Dud a-yelling!" said Link.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PEAKSLOW REAPPEARS.]

The roof of the shed--which must have been the object Vinnie saw rise and turn in the air--had been taken off very neatly, with the two gable pieces, whirled over once or more, and then landed gently, right side up with care, on the edge of the potato-patch, two or three rods away. Dud, hunting for his father, pa.s.sed near it, and heard stifled cries come from under it. He was yelling, indeed, as Link said.

In a moment a dozen feet rushed to the spot, and a dozen hands laid hold of one side of the roof, under which Jack thrust a lever. Some lifted on the lever, while some lifted on the edge of the roof itself; and out crawled--bushy head and hooked nose fore-most--the s.h.a.ggy shape of the elder Peakslow.

The roof was let down again as soon as Peakslow's legs were well from under it, and a wondering group--men, boys, women, and children--gathered round to see if he was hurt.

"Wal!" said Peakslow, getting upon his feet, giving his clothes a brush with his broad hand, and staring about him, "this is a mighty perty piece of business! Didn't none on ye hear me call?"

"Did you call?" said Mrs. Peakslow, trembling with joy and fright.

"Call?" echoed Peakslow, feeling his left shoulder with his right hand.

"I believe I b'en callin' there for the last half-hour. What was ye knockin' that ruf to pieces for? I could hear ye, an' see ye, an' I wanted to put a stop to 't. Hadn't the wind damaged me enough, but you must pitch in?"

"We thought you were under the ruins," Mr. Betterson replied with dignity.

"Thought I was under the ruins! What made ye think that?" growled Peakslow.

"I thought so--I told them so," Mrs. Peakslow explained; while Lord Betterson walked away with calm disgust.

"Ye might 'a' knowed better'n that! Here I was under this ruf all the time. It come over on to me like a great bird, knocked me down with a flop of its wing,--mos' broke my shoulder, I believe; an' when I come to myself, and peeked through a crack, there was a crew knockin' the ruf o'

the house to flinders. I was too weak to call very loud, but, if you'd cared much, I should think ye might 'a' heard me. Look a' that house, now! look a' that shed! It's the blastedest luck!"

Jack couldn't help smiling. Peakslow turned upon him furiously.

"You here? So ye think my boy's a thief, do ye?"

"Come, Lion! come, boys!" said Jack, and started to follow Mr.

Betterson, without more words.

"Come here and 'cuse my boy o' stealin'!" said Peakslow, turning, and looking all about him, as if he had hardly yet regained his senses. "I had a hat somewheres. Hundred dollars--no, nor two hundred--won't pay the damage done to me this day."

"But the children, they are all safe," said Mrs. Peakslow, "and we ought to be thankful."

"Thankful! Look a' that linter! _Three_ hundred won't do it!"

"O pa!" cried Zeph, "you've got a great gash on the back o' your head!"

"Never mind the gash," said Peakslow, putting up his hand. "That'll heal itself. Holes in the buildin's won't."

Vinnie meanwhile conferred with Jack and Mr. Betterson, as they were about going away; and also called her sister, and afterward Mrs.

Peakslow, to the consultation.

"O, I don't know, Lavinia dear!" said Caroline in great distress of mind.

But Lord Betterson spoke out manfully,--

"Lavinia is right. Mrs. Peakslow, we have plenty of spare room in our house, which you are welcome to till you can do better."

"O Mr. Betterson!" the poor woman sobbed out, quite overcome by this unexpected kindness, "you are too good!"

"I beg your pardon," replied Lord Betterson, in his most gracious manner. "We wish simply to do as we might wish neighbors to do by us under similar circ.u.mstances. Our boys will help yours get your things over to my house,--whatever you want, Mrs. Peakslow."

Lord did not much mind the woman's outburst of tears and thanks; but when he observed the look of admiration and grat.i.tude in Vinnie's deep eyes, fixed upon him, he felt an unaccustomed thrill.

Mrs. Peakslow went weeping back to her husband.

"I am sorry you spoke as you did," she said. "We all thought you was under the linter; and they was all workin' so hard--as if they had been our best friends--to get you out."

"Best friends!" repeated Peakslow, with a snort of angry contempt.

"Yes, pa; and now,--will you believe it?--now that we haven't a ruf to our heads, they offer us shelter in _their_ house!"

"In the castle?--huh!" sneered Peakslow. "I never thought 't would come to that!"

"Where else _can_ we go?" said Mrs. Peakslow. "It's 'most night,--nights are beginnin' to be cold,--and think o' the children! 'T will be weeks, I s'pose, 'fore ye can rebuild."

"If I couldn't rebuild in all etarnity, I wouldn't set foot in Lord Betterson's castle!" said Peakslow. He looked again at the ruined house, then at the children, and added: "Me an' the boys, we can stop in the stable, or dig holes in the stack, to make ourselves comf'table. Do what you're a min' ter, for the rest. But don't say _I_ told ye to ask or accept a favor of _them_."

The Bettersons, Vinnie, and Jack were waiting between the ruined house and the road; and Mrs. Betterson was saying, "Lillie, you and I _must_ be going back; remember, we left Cecie all alone; and the evening air is too chill for the baby," when Link cried,--

"Who's that coming down the road?"

All turned; and Vinnie and Jack and Link ran out to look. They could scarcely believe their eyes.

"It can't be!" said Vinnie.