ROGER TAKES A JOURNEY
Roger was uncertain for a few minutes what to do. He heard the wagon rumbling past him, but gave no notice to the driver until the latter called out:
"Hello, young man! Want a ride?"
Then the boy saw that the man was his uncle's neighbor, Enberry Took. Up to that minute Roger had not the remotest idea of taking a ride, but for some reason he could not explain, he resolved to get into the wagon. He wanted time to think of some new plan. So he nodded in answer to Mr. Took's invitation.
"Whoa, Kate!" called Enberry to his mare, and pulled up opposite Professor Bailey's gate. Roger climbed to the seat, having first wrapped his precious crystals in a piece of paper before placing them in an inside pocket.
"G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took to Kate in a loud voice. "She's a little deef," the driver explained, indicating his mare. "Gittin' wuss, too. Hev t' git her a ear trumpet soon, ef it keeps on. Look kinder queer, wouldn't it, a mare 'ith a ear trumpet?"
"I think it would," replied Roger, smiling at the idea.
"G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took again, and this time the mare started off at a slow pace.
The two rode for a few minutes in silence.
"Nice day," ventured Enberry at length.
"Fine," assented Roger.
"Goin' fer?" went on Mr. Took, flicking a fly from the mare's back.
"Why, yes—er—that is—I don't know. I mean I can't say."
"Wa'al, we'll git at it arter a while," laughed Enberry. "Which is it?"
"Where are you going?" asked Roger, a sudden thought coming to him.
"Syracuse. Why?"
"That's where I'm going then."
"Humph! Made up yer mind rather suddint," commented Enberry, with a grin. "But ye're welcome, all th' same. I won't be comin' back 'til rather late though, 'long about nine o'clock," he added.
"That will suit me good enough," said Roger. "I'll tell you what it is," growing confidential, and knowing he could trust Mr. Took. "I want to go to Syracuse to find a chemist. I have something, and I want to find out what it is. I was going to ask Professor Bailey, but he has gone away, and I'm in a hurry. I don't s'pose you know of a man out to the city who could tell all about minerals and such things, do you?"
"Ye say ye've got suthin' 'n' don't know what it is?" asked Mr. Took, with rather a puzzled look on his face.
Roger nodded.
"Then I know th' very place fer ye," said Enberry, suddenly. "Perfessor Bootsky 's th' man fer ye. He's a fortune teller. That's what ye want. He'll reveal th' past, present, 'n' future. I went t' him onct. Told me I'd hev bad luck inside of a month, 'n' I'll be gol-swizzled ef one a' my cows didn't up 'n' die on me. He's th' chap fer ye. Tell ye anythin' 'bout nothin' 'n' nothin' 'bout everythin', jest's ye like. I'll take ye t' him. G'lang, Kate!" and fired with sudden energy and enthusiasm, Mr. Took sent the mare along at a flying pace.
"No! No!" exclaimed Roger, trying not to laugh.
"No?" with a puzzled air, from Enberry.
"I have something I want analyzed, to find out what sort of stuff it is," said Roger.
"Hain't nobody been tryin' t' pizen ye, hev they?" asked Enberry, with a startled look. "I read 'bout a case like thet in th' papers onct. Feller most died from drinkin' well water. Had a green scum on it. Took it t' a perfessor, 'n' what d' he s'pose he said?"
"What?"
"Paris Green! G'lang, Kate!"
"Oh, this is nothing like that," said Roger. "At least I do not believe what I have is poison."
"And you want jest a ordinary chemist 'n' not a fortune teller, eh?"
"I do."
"Wa'al," said Mr. Took, at length, "ye come t' th' right place fere information fer onct in yer life, Roger. I know jest th' feller ye want. He used t' live out here 'fore he growed up, got a eddercation, 'n' become one a' them chaps what looks through a glass, 'n' tells ye 'bout bugs in th' drinkin' water, 'n' wigglers turnin inter musquiters. 'N' he looks through a thing like a telescope, 'n' tells ye 'bout lines, 'n' angles, 'n' feet, 'n' chains, 'n' links, 'n' so on. What d' ye call them fellers?"
"Surveyors," ventured Roger.
"That's it. He's a surveyor. Addison Vanter is his name. He's one of 'em employed by the city, 'n' his office is in th' town hall. I'll take ye right t' him; I know him, 'n' he'll fix ye up. G'lang, Kate!"
"I didn't tell the folks I was coming away," said Roger, "so I hope we'll be back before very late. I wouldn't like them to be worried on my account."
"We'll git back all right," answered Mr. Took. "'Long 'bout haf-past eight er nine o'clock. Bert's folks won't miss ye 'til then, 'specially as boys is allers traipsin' off sommers er other."
"I guess nine o'clock will not be too late," said Roger. "Would you mind, Mr. Took," the boy went on, "not speaking about this trip to people in Cardiff? You see I want to surprise my uncle, and I don't want him to know anything about what I am doing. There's nothing wrong in it, though."
Mr. Took promised readily enough, as he knew he could trust the boy, and he did not ask any questions, for which Roger was grateful. They were well on their journey now, driving along the pleasant valley road in the sunshine. It yet lacked considerable of noon, but Roger began to feel hungry, for, in the excitement, he had not eaten much breakfast. Mr. Took seemed to know this, and with a good-natured smile, he reached under the seat and pulled out a pail.
"My wife allers puts this snack up for me when I go t' th' city," he said. "Here, help yerself," and he extended the pail filled with crisp, brown doughnuts and some cream cheese. Roger did full justice to Mrs. Took's excellent cooking, and, when he had finished the fifth cake he felt much better. Nor had Mr. Took been a whit behind him in disposing of the toothsome fried cakes.
"They're fine," was Roger's verdict.
"Allers make me thirsty," commented Mr. Took, "but I know where I kin git a drink."
He shook the reins, and Kate trotted on.
"Whoa up!" shouted Enberry, suddenly pulling the mare in. "Here we be."
Beside the road was a hollowed-out tree trunk, moss lined, filled to the edges and running over with clear, cool, sparkling water, that flowed and bubbled into the trough from a wooden pipe, made from a hollow log, which extended back to the spring. There was a dried yellow gourd for a dipper, and Mr. Took and Roger drank their fill, while Kate stuck her nose deep into the liquid, and sucked it up with queer little noises.
"Finest water in th' state," said Mr. Took, wiping his mouth dry on the back of his hand, "finest water in th' state."
And Roger agreed with him.
"Wa'al, we'll git along I guess," said Enberry, after a pause, and they made no other stop until they reached Syracuse. Mr. Took drove under the sheds back of the Candee House, where the Cardiff stage put up. This lumbering vehicle had arrived a few minutes before them.
"Not so bad," said Mr. Took, glancing at his big silver watch. "It's one o'clock. Now we'll git some dinner. Hello, Porter!" he called to the stage driver, who just then emerged from the barn. "How be ye? Most got in ahead on ye, didn't I?"
"Had t' make a few extra stops," explained Mr. Amidown. "Made me a leetle late," and, with a nod, he passed on.
Now Roger was almost as hungry as if he had not eaten the doughnuts, and he wanted his dinner very much. But he knew hotels charged for food, even if it was for a small boy, and he realized, for the first time, that, in his hurry he had come away without any money. So he began to wonder how he could pay for a meal, or even a half of one, providing they had that kind. He did not like to go in with Mr. Took, under the circumstances, so he rather hung back, when his friend followed the stage driver into the public parlor of the Candee House. But Enberry was quick to notice the boy's diffidence, and, rightly guessing the cause, he said:
"I'm standin' treat t'-day, Porter. You 'n' Roger here, is invited t' dine at my expense. 'T ain't often I git a chanst t' hev company at my hotel, 'n' when I do I make th' most on it. Now, now," as he saw Roger hesitating, "no excuses, jest come right along. I've got lots t' do, 'n' no time t' stand on ceremony. 'Sides, I'm 's hungry's a b'ar 'n' her four cubs."
So there was nothing to do but accept the invitation, and soon all three were sitting down to a plain, but bountifully spread table.
"I'll take ye t' thet feller I spoke about, Roger," said Mr. Took, as he began on his second piece of pie. "Then I'll hev t' leave ye. Be back here by six o'clock, 's I'll start then. Can't do my tradin' much afore thet. That'll give us a chanst t' git a bite a' supper, 'n' we kin be in Cardiff by nine o'clock. Th' moon's full, 'n' it'll be good drivin'."
"He kin go back 'ith me, 'bout three o'clock," spoke up Mr. Amidown. "I'd like t' hev him on th' stage."
Roger thanked his friend for the offer, but said he was not sure he could be through with what he had to do in that short time, and so he decided to stick to his original plan and go back with Mr. Took. It would be more fun, too, he thought, driving home by moonlight. The dinner was soon over, and, when Mr. Took had paid the bill, he and Roger walked up the main street of Syracuse.
They made their way to the city hall, and Enberry soon located his acquaintance. Mr. Vanter was glad to see some one from Cardiff, especially Mr. Took, with whom he was quite friendly. Roger was introduced.
"He's a N' York city boy, out on a visit to his uncle, a neighbor a' mine," explained Enberry. "He has a notion he wants t' see ye 'bout suthin', jest what, I don't know, but he'll tell ye. Now I've got t' go. Remember, Roger, be at th' Candee House by six o'clock."
"I will," replied the boy, as Mr. Took left.
"Now, my young friend, what can I do for you?" asked Mr. Vanter, pleasantly.
Roger pulled from his pocket the paper containing the mysterious white crystals. He held them toward the surveyor.
"What are they?" the boy asked.
Mr. Vanter took them in his hand. He smelled of them, once, twice. Then, taking a tiny piece of one of the particles he touched it on the tip of his tongue. He made a wry face.
"Humph!" he remarked, and tasted again. "It must be," he muttered to himself, as Roger looked anxiously on. Then the chemist got a test tube, put some of the crystals in it, and poured a little water on them. He shook the glass violently, until the white particles had all dissolved. Then he brought out several bottles of chemicals, and began his tests. Roger was much interested, and, at the conclusion of the experimenting, when Mr. Vanter put his materials aside, the boy leaned forward, and asked breathlessly:
"What is it?"
"You have here," said Mr. Vanter, smiling a little, "a very fine sample of—pure rock salt."
"Salt?"
Roger's heart went away down into his shoes. Why, he thought, should Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley have been so elated over a little salt.
"Just ordinary salt, though a very fine grade," repeated the surveyor.
"Only salt," and there was a world of disappointment in Roger's tone.
"But salt is not to be despised, by any means," went on Mr. Vanter. "If it wasn't for the salt wells, Syracuse would not be such a fine city as it is. Besides, if there was no salt, the people of the whole world would be very badly off. Is there something behind all this, Roger? Perhaps if you tell me I may be able to help you more than I can now. As it is I am working in the dark."
"Then I'll tell you everything," said Roger, and he did so, from the arrival of the two strangers in Cardiff, and his suspicions of them, the manner in which he had discovered them drilling the hole, how they sought to keep him away from the spring glade, and, finally, his escape from Mr. Ranquist that morning, ending with his journey to Syracuse.
"Hum," remarked Mr. Vanter at length. "Hum." He pursed up his lips, and wrinkled his forehead in deep thought as he paced rapidly back and forth in his office. Then he clapped his hands together with a resounding whack, and cried aloud:
"That's it! By the Great Horn Spoon, but that's it! No wonder they want to keep it secret."
"What?" asked Roger, Mr. Vanter's excitement infecting him. "What is it?"
"Well," began the surveyor, cautiously, "I wouldn't want to raise any false hopes, but, Roger, my boy, I think you have stumbled across a big discovery, or, rather, you have probably done so at the same time these two men did. And it's a mighty good thing for you and your uncle. You say he is greatly in need of money to pay off this mortgage. Does Mr. Ranquist or Mr. Dudley know about that?"
"I'm afraid they do," said Roger, thinking of how Adrian had incautiously told something of his father's affairs to the engineers that day.
"That's bad, that's bad," went on Mr. Vanter, half to himself. "Now, since they know you are on the track of their secret, they'll act promptly. Every minute is valuable. They may get your uncle to sign an agreement to-day promising to sell his land to them, and if he does so, it's as binding as if he deeded it away, if they choose to make him fulfil the contract, as, no doubt, they would do. If I had only known of this yesterday. But perhaps we can catch them yet." He looked quickly at his watch.
"But what's it all about?" asked Roger, who did not yet understand what made Mr. Vanter so excited, all over a little salt.
"It's this," replied the surveyor. "Unless I 'm very much mistaken, those men have discovered on your uncle's farm a valuable deposit of rock salt. Of its extent and worth I can only guess, but, from the actions of Mr. Ranquist, the mine must be a rich one. His object will be to secure Mr. Kimball's land, or that part of it in the spring-glade, before the fact becomes known that there is salt under the surface. Thus he can obtain, for the price of ordinary farming real estate, property that may be worth thousands and thousands of dollars."
Roger felt his breath come with a gasp.
"And it's our business to prevent this," said Mr. Vanter. "Now," he went on, "I'll tell you what we'll do."
He seemed to be thinking out a plan, and Roger waited, all impatience.
"You take the stage back to Cardiff," continued the surveyor. "I'll come on after you with Mr. Took, and that will give me time to make some arrangements here. Now be careful what you do. Don't tell any one you have seen me, and, when I arrive in Cardiff, don't recognize me if you meet me in the road. Above all, hurry. You have only just time to catch the stage. When you get home, say to your uncle the first thing: 'Don't sign any papers to sell the spring-glade land for at least a week.' If he wants to know why, tell him, and say you have seen me. But, if he hasn't signed, don't let him. Now hurry, and good luck go with you."
With wildly beating heart, thinking of what might happen in the next few hours, Roger made his way to the Candee House, where he found the stage just pulling out.
"Hi there! Mr. Amidown! Please take me along!" shouted the boy.
"Oh! Eh! Changed yer mind, did ye?" said Porter, as he pulled up his team and helped Roger to climb on the high seat. "Wa'al, I'm glad t' hev ye come along. I didn't hev no one t' ride 'ith me. Nothin' but a lot a' weemin passengers this trip. G'lang, Pete 'n' Jim," and he nicked the horses lightly.
Roger thought the ride to Cardiff would never come to an end. But, at last, he came in sight of the white church. He jumped off the stage at the post-office, and ran all the way to his uncle's house. He burst into the kitchen, where he saw Mr. Kimball looking at a paper.
"Fer th' land sakes," burst out Mrs. Kimball, "we thought a b'ar had carried ye off, Roger."
"Uncle Bert!" cried the boy, earnestly, "don't sign any papers, agreeing to sell the land near the spring!"
Mr. Kimball gazed slowly over the rims of his spectacles at his nephew.
"Wa'al," he began slowly, "I didn't know 's ye knew anythin' 'bout this transaction, but ye're a leetle too late. I signed an hour ago. Mr. Ranquist brought th' agreement t' me, 'n' I must say I think I got a good price. Enough t' pay off th' mortgage, 'n' a leetle over."
"Then you have signed?" spoke the boy, waiting in fear for the answer.
"I hev."
"I'm too late," exclaimed Roger, bitterly. "They got ahead of me, after all."