"Wait till you see Cyene Church. Oh, it"s a daisy snarl!"
"I wish you"d tell me about it."
"Oh, it"s quiet now. The calmness of death," said Herman. "Well, you see, it came this way. The church is made up of Baptists and Methodists, and the Methodists wanted an organ, because, you understand, father was the head centre, and Mattie is the only girl among the Methodists who can play. The old man has got a head like a mule. He can"t be switched off, once he makes up his mind. Deacon Marsden, he don"t believe in anything above tuning-forks, and he"s tighter"n the bark on a bulldog.
He stood out like a sore thumb, and Dad wouldn"t give an inch.
"You see, they held meetings every other Sunday. So Dad worked up the organ business and got one, and then locked it up when the Baptists held their services. Things went from bad to worse. They didn"t speak as they pa.s.sed by--that is, the old folks; we young folks didn"t care a continental whether school kept or not. Well, upshot is, the church died out. The wind blew the horse-sheds down, and there they lie--and the church is standing there empty as an--old boot--and--Say, Stacey--by Jinks!--are you a Baptist?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Peter! ain"t that lovely!" He chuckled shamelessly, and went off to sleep without another word.
II
Herman was still sleeping when Stacey rose and dressed and went down to breakfast. Mrs. Mills defended Herman against the charge of laziness: "He"s probably been out late all the week."
Stacey found Mott in the county court-house, and a perfunctory examination soon put him in possession of a certificate. There was no question of his attainments.
Herman met him at dinner-time.
"Well, elder, I"m going down to get a rig to go out home in. It"s colder"n a blue whetstone, so put on all the clothes you"ve got. Gimme your check, and I"ll get your traps. Have you seen Mott?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, everything"s all fixed."
He turned up about three o"clock, seated on the spring seat of a lumber wagon beside a woman, who drove the powerful team. Whether she was young or old could not be told through her wraps. She wore a cap and a thick, faded cloak.
Mrs. Mills hurried to the door. "Why, Mattie Allen! What you doin" out such a day as this? Come in here instanter!"
"Can"t stop!" called a clear, boyish voice. "Too late!"
"Well, land o" stars, you"ll freeze!"
When Wallace reached the wagon side, Herman said, "My sister, Stacey."
The girl slipped her strong, brown hand out of her huge glove and gave him a friendly grip. "Get right in," she said. "Herman, you"re going to stand up behind."
Herman appealed to Mrs. Mills for sympathy. "This is what comes of having plebeian connections."
"Oh, dry up," laughed the girl, "or I"ll make you drive."
Stacey scrambled in awkwardly beside her. She was not at all embarra.s.sed, apparently.
"Tuck yourself in tight. It"s mighty cold on the prairie."
"Why didn"t you come down with the baroosh?" grumbled Herman.
"Well, the corn was contracted for, and father wasn"t able to come--he had another attack of neuralgia last night, after he got the corn loaded, so I had to come."
"Sha"n"t I drive for you?" asked Wallace.
"No, thank you. You"ll have all you can do to keep from freezing." She studied his thin coat and worn gloves with keen glance. He could see only her pink cheeks, strong nose, and dark, smiling eyes.
It was one of those terrible Illinois days when the temperature drops suddenly to zero, and the churned mud of the highways hardens into scoriac rock, which cripples the horses and sends the heavy wagons booming and thundering along like mad things. The wind was keen as a saw-bladed sword, and smote incessantly. The desolate sky was one thick, impenetrable ma.s.s of swiftly flying clouds.
When they swung out upon the long pike leading due north, Wallace drew his breath with a gasp, and bent his head to the wind.
"Pretty strong, isn"t it?" shouted Mattie.
"Oh, the farmer"s life is the life for me, tra-la!" sang Herman, from his shelter behind the seat.
Mattie turned. "What do you think of _Penelope_ this month?"
"She"s a-gitten there," said Herman, pounding his shoe heels.
"She"s too smart for young Corey. She ought to marry a man like Bromfield. My, wouldn"t they talk!"
"Did y" get the second bundle of magazines last Sat.u.r.day?"
"Yes; and Dad found something in the _Popular Science_ that made him mad, and he burned it."
"Did "e? Tum-la-la! Oh, the farmer"s life for me!"
"Are you cold?" she asked Wallace.
He turned a purple face upon her. "No--not much."
"I guess you better slip right down under the blankets," she advised.
The wind blew gray out of the north--a wild blast which stopped the young student"s blood in his veins. He hated to give up, but he could no longer hold the blankets over his knees, so he slipped down into the corner of the box, with his back to the wind, while Mattie drew the blankets over his head, slapped the reins down on the backs of the snorting horses, and encouraged them with shouts like a man: "Get out o"
this, Dan! Hup there, Nellie!"
The wagon boomed and rattled. The floor of the box seemed beaten with a maul. The glimpses Wallace had of the land appalled him, it was so flat and gray and bare.
Herman sang at the top of his voice, and danced, and pounded his feet against the wagon box. "This ends it! If I can"t come home without freezing to death, I don"t come. I should have hired a rig, irrespective of you--"
The girl laughed. "Oh, you"re getting thin-blooded, Herman. Life in the city has taken the starch all out of you."
"Better grow limp in a great city than freeze stiff in the country," he replied.
An hour"s ride brought them into a yard before a large, gray-white frame house.
Herman sprang out to meet a tall old man with head m.u.f.fled up. "h.e.l.lo, Dad! Take the team. We"re just naturally froze solid--at least, I am.
This is Mr. Stacey, the new teacher."
"How de do? Run in; I"ll take the horses."