HARD OF HEARING

"Hello, Lost Tribes. What are ye makin'?"

Zeb looked quickly around, and seeing Abner standing in the doorway, a smile overspread his face.

"Glad to see ye," he replied. "Feelin' better, eh?"

"I haven't been sick. What are ye givin' me, Zeb?"

"Ye haven't, eh? Well, from all accounts, ye've been up to queer pranks of late. How did the sewin'-circle come along?"

"Oh, I see," and Abner sat down upon a box. "Ye've been hearin' somethin'."

Zeb did not reply, but went on quietly with his work.

"What are ye makin', Zeb?"

"What de ye think I'm makin'? A baby carriage?"

"Looks to me like a goose-poke."

"So it is; de ye want one?"

"De ye think I do?" Abner snapped.

"Well, judgin' from ye'r actions yesterday, one wouldn't come fer astray."

"Here, never mind that racket, Zeb. I've had enough of it. What's the news?"

"News! Lots of it: Joe Preston in the hospital, his assailant in jail, Lawyer Rackshaw's been givin' a rat-party, an' Abner Andrews has been holdin' a free entertainment at Mrs. Dugan's. That's some news, isn't it?"

"Ah, git out. I know all about that, an' too much in fact. I want to know how Joe's gittin' along. Have ye heard?"

"Oh, he's on the mend, an' is makin' ready to git after you."

"He is?"

"Sure. He's had Rackshaw up to see him several times already. They're a pair, all right, an' I guess it's up to you to git busy if ye expect to come off with a whole skin."

"H'm," Abner sniffed, "I don't care a snap of me finger fer 'em."

"But ye will, let me tell ye that," and Zeb laid down the stick he was holding in his hand and looked at his neighbor. "Yell lose ye'r place if ye don't do somethin'. Ye must git a lawyer, Abner, to defend ye."

"But I can't afford one, Zeb."

"An' ye can't afford to do without one, it seems to me."

"Mebbe so." And Abner sighed. "Guess I'll have to be me own lawyer as fer as I kin see. I'm pretty glib with the tongue."

"A pretty mess you'd make of it. Why, Rackshaw would wind you up in no time. He's mighty good on a case, so I've been told. An' he's tricky, too. Will stop at nuthin' to gain his point."

Just then an auto went by, filled with men.

"Who kin they be?" Abner enquired, watching the car as it disappeared amid a cloud of dust.

"Must be men from the Capital," was the reply. "There's to be an election soon, an' the members are gittin' busy, so I hear."

"An election! Why, I never heard a word about it."

"Oh, you were too busy with other things, Abner, so ye didn't hear. An', besides, ye don't take the Wire, so how kin ye expect to know what's goin' on?"

"When's the 'lection to take place, Zeb?"

"Next month, an' it's goin' to be a hard fight. That railroad business has put the Government in a bad hole."

"So I've heard. Graftin', eh?"

"I never knew of anythin' like it. Why, every one of the whole bunch, from the premier down, has been gittin' his rake-off."

"I know somethin' about it, Zeb. All them fellers who were in with the government bunch got big slices, whether they did any work or not. One man got ten thousand dollars fer whistlin' the right tune, an' another got over a hundred thousand fer winkin' with his left eye at the right instant. Oh, I've heard lots about it."

"An' it's true, Abner. True as the Gospel. An' them same fellers are comin' to you an' me to ask us to re-elect 'em."

"We won't do it, Zeb."

The latter turned and looked intently at his visitor.

"What about that place of yours, Abner?"

"Well, what about it?"

"Don't ye know? If ye buck that government bunch ye'll not stand a ghost of a chance to git anythin' fer ye'r gravel hill. But they might do somethin' big if ye side with 'em."

"De ye mean to insinuate, Zeb, that they kin buy me?"

"Not exactly that, but ye might make a better deal if ye rub 'em the right way."

"H'm. I'll rub 'em the right way, Zeb. There's only one right way to rub them fellers, an' that's the way I rubbed Joe Preston the other mornin'."

"An' git into trouble, Abner."

"Mebbe so. But when wasn't I in trouble? I've been more or less in trouble ever since I was born, an' I'll be that way as long as there's snakes an' skunks in the country."

Abner rose to his feet, pulled out his pipe, and started to fill it.

"Say, Zeb," he presently began, "I wish ye'd give me a hand this mornin'."

"What is it ye want?"

"Help me to fix up me woodshed, will ye? We've had a big surprise at our house."

"Should say ye had. Twins one night an' triplets the next day. Rapid increase, that. How's the missus?"

Abner struck a match and paid no attention to this sally.

"Yes, we've had a big surprise," he continued. "A team came from town last night with a hull load of cots, mattresses, boxes of clothin' an' dear knows what all."

"Ye don't tell!" Zeb was much interested now. "Where did they come from?"

"Guess it's some of Belle's doin's. She's written to her pa an' some friends, if I'm not mistaken, tellin' 'em about the kids we've taken under our roof, an' they sent the things. Why, the dooryard is filled chock-a-block."

"Where are ye goin' to put 'em, Abner?"

"In the woodshed. It's got to be fixed up, an' I want ye to give me a hand this mornin'. Tildy an' the gals have taken the kids over to the island to pick berries, an' I want to have it all done when they come back. It'll be a kind of surprise."

"What are ye goin' to do?"

"Fix the floor an' walls, an' partition off a part of the shed. It'll make a dang fine place, an' I've got the boards. Will ye give me a hand?"

"Sure," was the ready response. "I'll go right along. I ain't very busy this mornin'. I was only makin' a goose-poke. That gander of mine is a reg'lar old nick fer crawlin' through small holes in the fence. But I guess this'll keep him in, all right."

"It's a pity ye can't make pokes fer men as easy as ye kin fer ye'r old gander, Zeb. I'd order two right off, one fer Ikey Dimock an' t'other fer Lawyer Rackshaw. There should be a law passed makin' goose-pokes necessary fer some people who are allus botherin' their neighbors."

"Ye couldn't git that law passed, Abner."

"Why not?"

"'Cause them who make the laws 'ud be the first ones to use the pokes. They'd be carryin' 'em around all the time."

"Ho, ho, I guess ye'r right, Zeb. But come on, an' let's git at that job."

For two hours the men worked upon the woodshed, and at the end of that time they had made excellent progress. The walls and the floor had been repaired, the partition put up, and the place thoroughly swept.

"There, I guess that's some work," Abner remarked, as he critically surveyed the room. "Doesn't take us long to do a job when we once git at it, eh, Zeb?"

"Let's finish it, though," was the reply. "We might as well fix up the cots while we're about it."

"Sure, an' have everythin' ready when the folks git back. My, won't they be surprised. An' Orphan Home built in two hours! I wonder what them slow-pokes in town would think of that."

They had just begun to carry in the cots, when an auto stopped before the house, and the impatient call of a klaxon sounded forth.

"It's the same men who went by when we were in the shop," Zeb explained. "Must be them members after ye'r vote, Abner. They want ye to go out. Listen to the noise that thing's makin'."

"Jerry'll like that," was the reply. "He must be shiverin' with delight. Let 'em keep it up."

And keep it up they did for a whole minute, while Zeb and Abner went on with their work.

"Hi there," shouted an impatient voice. "Are you deaf?"

Abner winked at Zeb.

"S'pose we let 'em think we are deaf," he suggested. "I don't like their gall. Anyway, we might as well have a little fun, so let's bring down their topsails. They're carryin' too much sail fer sich crafts."

"All right, Abner, I'm game," Zeb agreed. "But be careful."

"Oh, I'll be as keerful as I was with Joe Preston. You jist go on with the work as if ye didn't hear nuthin', an' let me handle this show. But, say, they're runnin' the car into the yard. What impudence!"<............