"Dab Kinzer," exclaimed the stranger. "Where"d he get his name?"
"In de bay, I "spect," said d.i.c.k, as he shoved his boat off; "caught "im wid a hook."
"Anyhow," said the strange boy to himself, "that"s probably the kind of fellow my father would wish me to a.s.sociate with. Only it"s likely he"s very ignorant."
And he walked away towards the village, with the air of a man who had forgotten more than the rest of his race were ever likely to find out.
At all events, d.i.c.k Lee had managed to say a good word for his benefactor, little as he could guess what might be the consequences.
Meantime Dab Kinzer, when he went out from breakfast, had strolled away to the north fence, for a good look at the house which was thenceforth to be the home of his favorite sister. He had seen it before, every day since he could remember; but it seemed to have a fresh and almost mournful interest for him just now.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed, as he leaned against the fence. "Putting up ladders? Oh, yes, I see! That"s old Tommy McGrew, the house-painter.
Well, Ham"s house needs a new coat as badly as I did. Sure it"ll fit too. Only it ain"t used to it, any more"n I am."
"Dabney!"
It was his mother"s voice, and Dab felt like "minding" very promptly that morning.
"Dabney, my boy, come here to the gate."
"Ham Morris is having his house painted," he remarked, as he walked towards his mother.
"Is he?" she said. "We"ll go and see about it."
The gate between the two "side-yards" had been there from time immemorial, and-they walked right through. As they drew nearer the Morris house, however, Dabney discovered that carpenters as well as painters were plying their trade in and about the old homestead. There were window-sashes piled here, and blinds there; a new door or so, ready for use, a great stack of bundles of shingles, some barrels of lime, and a heap of sand. Whichever way Dab looked, there were visible signs of an approaching renovation.
"Going to fix it all over," he remarked.
"Yes," replied his mother: "it"ll be as good as new. It was well built, and will bear mending. I couldn"t say that of some of the shackling things they"ve been putting up around the village."
When they entered the house it became more and more evident that the "shabby" days of the Morris mansion were numbered. There were men at work in almost every room.
Ham"s wedding-trip would surely give plenty of time, at that rate, for an immense amount of "mending;" and his house would be, as the widow had promised, "all ready for him on his return."
There was nothing wonderful to Dabney in the idea of his mother going about and inspecting work, and finding fault, and giving directions. He had never seen her do any thing else, and he had the greatest confidence in her knowledge and ability. He noticed too, before they left the place, that the customary farm-work was going ahead with even more regularity and energy than if the owner himself had been present.
"Ham"s farm"ll look something like ours, one of these days," he said, "if things go on at this rate."
"I mean it shall," replied his mother, a little sharply. "Now go and get out the ponies, and we"ll do the rest of our errands."
Dab started for the barn at a half trot; for, if there was one thing he liked better than another, it was to have the reins in his hands and that pair of ponies before him. Time had been when Mrs. Kinzer did her own driving, and only permitted Dab to "hold the horses" while she made her calls, business or otherwise; but that day had been safely put away among Dab"s unpleasant memories for a good while.
It was but a few minutes before the neat buggy held the widow and her son, and the ponies were taking them briskly down the road towards the village.
It they had only known it, at that very moment Ham Morris and his blooming bride were setting out for a drive, at the fashionable watering-place where they had made their first stop in their wedding-tour.
"Ham," said Miranda, "it seems to me as if we were a thousand miles from home."
"We shall be a good deal farther before we get any nearer," said Ham.
"But I wonder what they are doing there, this morning,--mother, and the girls, and dear little Dabney."
"Little Dabney!" exclaimed Ham, with a queer sort of laugh on his face.
"Why, Miranda, do you think Dab is a baby yet?"
"No, not a baby, but"--
"Well, he"s a boy, that"s a fact; but he"ll be as tall as I am in three years."
"Will he? Do you think so? But will he ever get fat?"
"Not till after he gets his full length," said Ham. "We must have him at our house a good deal, after we get home, and feed him up. I"ve taken a liking to Dab."
"Feed him up!" said Miranda. "Do you think we starve him?"
"No, I suppose not; but how many meals a day does he get?"
"Three, of course, like the rest of us; and he never misses one of them."
"Exactly," said Ham: "I shouldn"t suppose he would. I never miss a meal, myself, if I can help it. But don"t you think three meals a day is rather short allowance for a boy like Dab?"
Miranda thought a moment, but then she answered positively,--
"No, I don"t. Not if he does as well at each one of them as Dabney is sure to."
"Well," said Ham, "that was in his old clothes, that were too tight for him. Now he"s got a good loose fit, with plenty of room, you don"t know how much more he may need. No, Miranda, I"m going to have an eye on Dab."
"You"re a dear good fellow, anyway," said Miranda, with one of her very best smiles, "and I hope mother"ll have the house all ready for us when we get back."
"She will," replied Ham, after a moment spent in somewhat thoughtful silence. "Do you know, Miranda, I shall hardly be easy about that till I see what she"s done with it? It was in a dreadfully baggy condition."
CHAPTER IV.
TWO BOYS, ONE PIG, AND AN UNFORTUNATE RAILWAY-TRAIN.
"That"s him!"
Dab was standing by his ponies, in front of a store in the village. His mother was making some purchases in the store, and Dab was thinking how the Morris house would look when it was finished; and it was at him the old farmer was pointing in answer to a question which had just been asked him.
The questioner was the sharp-eyed boy who had bothered poor d.i.c.k Lee that morning, and he was now evidently making a sort of "study" of Dab Kinzer.
At that moment, however, a young lady--quite young--came tripping along the sidewalk, and was stopped by Dabney, with,--
"There, Jenny Walters! If I didn"t forget my label!"