THE DUMP SCHEME

"I wonder what the critter wants now."

"Who is it from?" Mrs. Andrews asked, as she paused in her work of beating an egg for one of her special company cakes.

For a few minutes Abner studied the letter he was holding in his hand, and paid no attention to his wife's question. He read it through again very carefully, and when he finished he gave a grunt of disgust.

"It must be serious if it makes you feel like that," Mrs. Andrews ventured.

"Hey, what's that?" Abner demanded. "Was ye speakin', Tildy?"

"Yes, I was. But what's the use of my speaking, when you're as deaf as a post. I was merely asking you who's the letter from?"

"Why, it's from Lawyer Rackshaw. I thought I told ye."

"What does he want?"

"He says he wants to see me on very important bizness. But I can't take the time to go to town this fine weather jist to see him. I've got to git to work hayin'."

"But you are going to town, anyway, in the morning, daddy," Jess reminded, looking up from the apples she was peeling.

"I am, eh? An' what for, I'd like to know?"

"Belle is coming on the morning train, and you must meet her."

"Oh, Lord!" Abner groaned. "I fergot all about her. Say, Jess, you take Jerry an' go fer her."

"I'm afraid I can't, daddy. There is so much work I have to do in the morning that I must stay at home. And, besides, you have to see Lawyer Rackshaw."

"So I have, confound it! But how'll I know the gal when I see her, tell me that?"

"Oh, you'll have no trouble. She has beautiful auburn hair."

"Red hair! Oh, my!" and Abner spread out his hands in dismay. "What next? Pink eyes?"

"No, no," and Jess laughed. "Not pink eyes, but sparkling dark ones, animated face, and such beautiful white teeth."

"Whew! I'll know the red hair, sparklin' eyes, an' animated face, all right, won't I, Tildy? I'll be Abner-on-the-spot as fer as they're consarned. But white teeth! How'll I know they're white? Will I have to ask her to open her mouth good an' wide so's I kin see?"

"I guess that won't be necessary," Jess laughingly replied. "As soon as Belle opens her mouth to speak, which she does very often, you will see her teeth, all right. You will know her anyway, for she is sure to be well dressed, and not likely she will be wearing any hat. It's a fad of hers."

"No hat! Gee whittaker! I wish you'd do the same, Jess; it'd save a lot of money."

Abner rose to his feet, picked up his hat, and reached for his pipe.

"I'm goin' over to see Lost Tribes, Tildy," he announced. "I want to know how Widder Denton is makin' out with her kids. Anything ye want me to do before I go?"

"Yes, you can bring in a pail of water and some wood. You might as well fasten up the chicken-coops, as I am too busy. I wish you'd set a trap, for there was a skunk around last night."

"H'm, is that so? Well, I guess it's the bear-trap I'd better set. There'll be more skunks around this place before long, if I'm not mistaken, an' two-legged ones at that. There was one here yesterday, but I soon cleared him out."

"Who was that?" Mrs. Andrews sharply asked. "What in the world were you up to?"

"It was Ikey Dimock. He was the skunk. He wants to buy our farm fer a summer place. What de ye think o' that?"

Abner slipped out of the house before his wife could recover from her astonishment to question him further.

"I've given Tildy a jolt," he chuckled, as he moved across the field toward Zeb's house. "I wonder what she'd think of the Dimocks livin' here? Mebbe it'll make her consider the old place is of some value after all."

Abner soon returned, harnessed Jerry and drove into town. He was hitching his horse to the post near the station-house when the agent appeared around the corner of the building.

"Mornin', Sam," he accosted. "How's the train?"

"On time," was the reply. "Expecting anyone?"

Abner gave the rope a final yank, and then turned toward the agent.

"Say, Sam," he began, "will ye do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Well, ye see, I'm expectin' company on the train this mornin', an' as you're mighty slick with women folks I thought mebbe ye'd meet her, in case I don't git back in time."

"Meet who?" Sam demanded in surprise.

"Why, Belle Rivers, of course. Didn't I tell ye? She's the 'torney General's gal, an' she's comin' on a visit to our place. I'm here to meet her, but if you'd do it fer me, break the ice, so to speak, I'd consider it a great favor."

Sam was all alert now, and keen with interest. The Attorney General Rivers' daughter! What a piece of news he would have for the reporter of The Live Wire when he made his regular afternoon call. The whole town would be agog at the news, and he mentally pictured the excitement of Mrs. Dimock and Mrs. Rackshaw when they heard it.

"Will ye do it, Sam?" Abner asked.

"Sure, I shall be only too delighted. But how shall I know her?"

"Oh, ye'll have no trouble. Let me see," and Abner scratched the back of his head. "Jess gave me a full description. She's got hair like fire; eyes like diamonds; cheeks like roses; and teeth like the white of an egg; dresses like one of the fashion picters, an' doesn't wear any hat."

"Gee whiz!" Sam exclaimed. "If she's all that she must be worth looking at. And, say, Mr. Andrews, I didn't know you were so poetical."

"Poetical! What de ye mean?"

"Why, the way you described Miss Rivers. I never heard you use such language before."

"Oh, that ain't nuthin' to what I kin do. Ye should hear me when Bill Kincaid's cows break into my oats. Then ye'd know somethin' about my command of the English language."

"I guess there wouldn't be much poetry about such language, would there?" Sam smilingly bantered. "A poet, for instance, needs to be inspired, so I understand."

"An' de ye think I'm not inspired when I'm chasin' them cows? Tildy says I am, an' I guess the cows do, too, by the way they run. I know I feel inspired, anyway, an' I'm all het up an' excited fer the rest of the day. That's the way poets look when they're inspired, accordin' to the picters I've seen of 'em. But, there, I must be off. Ye'll look after that gal, Sam, like a good feller, won't ye? Show her my waggon there, an' tell her she kin study the sights of the town while she waits. If she's nervous, homesick, or anythin' like that, ye might take her into the waitin'-room. I'll make it all right with ye, Sam. Don't fergit what she looks like, 'specially the red hair."

Lawyer Rackshaw was seated at his office desk as Abner entered. He rose briskly to his feet, and grasped the farmer by the hand.

"I've just come in," he told him, "and am enjoying my usual morning smoke. Sit right down and have a cigar."

"Another ten-center, eh?" Abner queried, as he sa............