Ted and the Telephone Part 4

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE SHACK

Throughout the long summer afternoon Ted worked on, fitting up his new quarters. Not only did he make a comfortable bunk for himself such as he had frequently constructed when at logging or sugaring-off camps in Vermont, but having several boards left he built along the racks originally intended for canoes some shelves for the books he meant to bring from home. By late afternoon he had finished all it was possible for him to do and he decided to go to Freeman's Falls and join his own family at supper, and while there collect the possessions he wished to transfer to the shack.

Accordingly he washed up and started out.

It was a little late when he reached the house and already his father and sisters were at table.

"Mercy on us, Ted, what under the sun have you been doing until this time of night?" demanded Mr. Turner. "I should call from seven in the morning until seven at night a pretty long day."

"Oh, I haven't been working all this time," laughed the boy. "Or at least, if I have, I have been having the time of my life doing it."

Eagerly, and with youthful enthusiasm, he poured out the tale of the day's happenings while the others listened.

"So you are starting out housekeeping, are you?" chuckled Mr. Turner, when the narrative was finished. "It certainly ain't a bad idea. Not that we're glad to get rid of you--although I will admit we ain't got the room here that I wish we had. It is the amount of time you'll save and the strength, too, that I'm thinking of. It must be a good three miles up to Aldercliffe and Pine Lea is at least two miles farther.

Being on the spot is going to make a lot of difference. But how are you going to get along? What will you do for food? I ain't going to have you eating stuff out of tin cans."

"Oh, you needn't worry about me, Dad. Mr. Wharton has arranged for me to take my meals with Mr. and Mrs. Stevens who have a cottage on the place. Stevens is the head farmer, you know."

"A pretty penny that will cost you! What does the man think you are--a millionaire?"

"Mr. Wharton told me the Fernalds would see to the bill."

"Oh! That's another matter," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Turner, entirely mollified.

"I will say it's pretty decent of Mr. Wharton. Seems to me he is doing a good deal for you."

"Yes, he is."

"Well, all is you must do your full share in return so he won't lose anything by it." The elder man paused thoughtfully. "Ain't there anything we could do to help out? Perhaps we could donate something toward your furnis.h.i.+ngs."

"Mr. Wharton said if I could supply my own bedding----"

"We certainly can do that," put in Ruth quickly. "There is a trunkful of extra comforters and blankets in the back room that I should be thankful enough to s.h.i.+p off somewhere else. And wouldn't you like some curtains? Seems to me they'd make it cosy and homelike. I've a piece of old chintz we've never used. Why not make it into curtains and do away with buying window shades?"

"That would be great!"

"It would be lots more cheerful," remarked Nancy. "What kind of a bed have you got?"

"I've built a wooden bunk-two bunks, in fact--one over the other like the berths in a s.h.i.+p. I thought perhaps sometime Dad might want to come up and visit me; and while I was at it, it was no more work to make two beds than one."

Mr. Turner smiled in friendly fas.h.i.+on into his son's eyes. The two were great pals and it pleased him that the lad should have included him in his plans.

"Beds like that will do all very well for a night or two; but for a steady thing they will be darned uncomfortable. Cover 'em with pine boughs after a long tramp through the woods and they seem like heaven; but try 'em day after day and they cease to be a joke. Wasn't there a wire spring round here somewhere, Ruth? Seems to me I remember it standing up against something. Why wouldn't that be the very thing? You could fasten it in place and have a bed good as you have at home."

"That's a corking idea, Dad!"

"I wish we could go up and see the place," Ruth suggested. "I am crazy to know what it looks like. Besides, I want to measure the windows."

"Maybe we could run up there to-night," her father replied rising. "It is not late and the Maguires said they would take us out for a little spin in their Ford before dark. They might enjoy riding up to Aldercliffe and be quite willing we should take along the spring bed.

Mat is a kind soul and I haven't a doubt he'd be glad to do us a favor.

Run down and ask him, Ted; or wait--I'll go myself."

The Maguires had the apartment just below the Turner's and Mat, a thrifty and good-humored Irishman, was one of the night watchmen at the Fernald mills. He had a plump little wife, but as there were no children he had been able to save more money than had some of his neighbors, and in consequence had purchased a small car which it was his delight to use for the benefit of his friends. In fact, he often called it the Maguire jitney, and the joke never became threadbare to his simple mind, for every time he made it he laughed as heartily as if he had never heard it before, and so did everybody else. Therefore no sooner had Mr. Turner proposed his plan than Mat was all eagerness to further the project.

"Sure I'll take you--as many of you as can pile in, and the spring bed, too! If you don't mind the inconvenience of the luggage, I don't. And tell Ted to bring along anything else he'd like to carry. We can pack you all in and the stuff on top of you. 'Twill be easy enough. Just make ready as soon as you can, so the dark won't catch us."

You may be sure the Turners needed no second bidding. Ruth and Nancy scrambled the supper dishes out of the way while Ted and his father hauled the wire spring out, brushed it, and dragged it downstairs.

Afterward Ted collected his box of electrical treasures, his books, and clothing. What he would do with all these things he did not stop to inquire. The chance to transfer them was at hand and he seized it with avidity. His belongings might as well be stored in the shack as anywhere else,--better, far better, for the s.p.a.ce they left behind would be very welcome to the Turner household.

Therefore with many a laugh, the party crowded into the waiting car and set out for Aldercliffe; and when at length they arrived at the house in the pines and Ted unlocked the sliding doors and pushed them wide open, ushering in his guests, what a landholder he felt!

"My, but this is a tidy little place!" Maguire e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "And it's not so little, either. Why, it's a regular palace! Look at the fireplace and the four windows! My eye! And the tier of bunks is neat as a s.h.i.+p's cabin. Bear a hand here with the spring. I'm all of a quaver to see if it fits," cried the man.

"I made the bunks regulation size, so I guess there won't be any trouble about that," Ted answered.

"The head on the lad!" the Irishman cried. "Ain't he the brainy one, though? You don't catch him wool-gathering! Not he!"

Nevertheless he was not content until the spring had been hoisted into place and he saw with his own eyes that it was exactly the proper size.

"Could anything be cuter!" observed he with satisfaction. "Now with a good mattress atop of that you will have a bed fit for a king. You'll be comfortable as if you were in a solid gold bedstead, laddie!"

"I'm afraid I may be too comfortable," laughed Ted. "What if I should oversleep and not get to breakfast, or to work, on time!"

"That would never do," Mr. Turner said promptly. "You must have an alarm clock. 'Twould be but a poor return for Mr. Wharton's kindness were you to come dawdling to work."

"I guess you can trust Ted to be on time," put in Ruth soothingly. "He is seldom late--especially to _meals_. Even if he were to be late at other places, I should always be sure he would show up when there was anything to eat."

"You bet I would," announced the boy, with a good-humored grin.

"I shall have enough chintz for curtains for all your windows,"

interrupted Nancy, who had been busy taking careful measurements during the conversation. "We'll get some bra.s.s rods and make the hangings so they will slip back and forth easily; they will be much nicer than window shades."

"Ain't there nothin' I can donate?" inquired Mat Maguire anxiously. "A rag rug, now--why wouldn't that be a good thing? The missus makes 'em by the dozen and our house is full of 'em. We're breakin' our necks mornin', noon, and night on 'em. A couple to lay down here wouldn't be so bad, I'm thinking. You could put one beside your bed and another before the door to wipe your feet on. They'd cheer the room up as well as help keep you warm. Just say the word, sonny, and you shall have 'em."

"I'd like them tremendously."

The kind-hearted Irishman beamed with pleasure.

"Sure, they'll be better out of our house than in it," remarked he, trying to conceal his gratification. "You can try stumbling over 'em a spell instead of me. 'Twill be interesting to see which of us breaks his neck first."

It was amazing to see how furniture came pouring in at Ted's bachelor quarters during the next few days. The chintz curtains were finished and hung; the Maguire rugs made their appearance; Mr. Turner produced a s.h.i.+ny alarm clock; and Nancy a roll of colored prints which she had cut from the magazines.

"You'll be wanting some pictures," said she. "Tack these up somewhere.

They'll brighten up the room and cover the bare walls."

Thus it was that day by day the wee shack in the woods became more cheery and homelike.