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It was late the next night when Roderick reached the camp landing with his precious black diamonds. He was desperately tired, muddy, and begrimed with smoke and coal-dust, hungry as a wolf, and hilarious with relief at his hard-earned success. Marian, Sally Lou, and Burford were all waiting for him at the little pier. Sally Lou dragged him up to the martin-box for a late supper. Afterward Marian, who was to spend the night with Sally Lou, walked back with him to his house-boat.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "WELL, CAPTAIN LATHROP!" COMMODORE McCLOSKEY'S VOICE RANG MERCILESS AND CLEAR.]
"Yes, yes, I'm all right, Sis. Don't fidget over me so." Roderick stepped into his state-room and dropped down into his desk chair.
"Whew! I'm thankful to get back. I could go to sleep standing up, if it wasn't for making up the records for President St.u.r.devant. Run away now, that's a good girl, and let me straighten my accounts. Then I can go to bed."
Even as he spoke Rod's glance swept his desk. Instead of the heaped disorder of the day before, he saw now rows of neatly docketed papers.
He gave a whistle of surprise.
"Who has been overhauling my desk? Burford? Why--why, did _you_ do this for me, sister? Well, on my word, you are just the very best ever." His big fingers gripped Marian's arm and gave her a grateful little shake. "You've squared up every single account, haven't you!
And your figuring is always accurate. This means two hours' extra sleep for me. Maybe you think I won't enjoy 'em!"
"I might have been keeping your accounts for you all these weeks,"
returned Marian. She was a little mortified by Roderick's astonished grat.i.tude. "It is not hard work for me. I really enjoyed doing it."
"Maybe you think I don't enjoy having you do it!" Rod chuckled contentedly. "I've dreaded those accounts all day. Now I shall sleep the sleep of the loafer who has let his sister do his work for him.
Good-night, old lady!"
Marian tucked herself comfortably into her corner of the martin-box, but not to sleep. Try her best, she could not banish Rod's tired face from her mind. Neither could she forget the look of his little state-room. True, she had made it daintily fresh and neat. But the tiny box was hot and stuffy at best. What could she do to make Rod's quarters more comfortable?
At last she sat up with a whispered exclamation.
"Good! I'll try that plan. Perhaps it won't do after all. But it cannot hurt to try. And if my scheme can make Rod the least bit more comfortable, then the trying will be well worth while!"
CHAPTER VIII
THE BURGOO
Very early the next morning, Marian set to work upon her brilliant plan for Roderick's comfort. The coast was clear for action. Both Roderick and Ned Burford had gone up the ca.n.a.l to oversee the excavation at the north laterals. Sally Lou had packed Mammy and the babies into the buckboard and had driven away to the nearest farm-house for eggs and b.u.t.ter. So Marian had a clear field. And she made eager use of every moment.
Perhaps two hundred yards from the ca.n.a.l bank, set well up on a little knoll where it could catch every pa.s.sing breeze, stood a broad wooden platform. High posts, built to hold lanterns, were set at the four corners and half-way down each side.
"The young folks of the district built that platform for their picnic dances," Burford had told Marian. "But this year our dredges have torn up this whole section and have made the creek banks so miry and disagreeable that no picnic parties will come this way till the contract is finished and the turf has had time to grow again."
Marian measured the platform with a calculating eye.
"It is built of matched boards, as tight and sound as if they had put it up yesterday. It will make a splendid floor for Rod's house. But when it comes to building the house itself--that's the question."
The contract supplies, she knew, were kept in a store-room built astern of Roderick's house-boat. For a hot, tiresome hour she poked and pried through high-piled hogsheads and tiers of boxes, hoping that she might find a tent. But there was no such good fortune for her. She dragged out bale after bale of heavy new canvas. But every one of the scores of tents provided by the company was already pitched, to form the summer village occupied by the levee laborers. At last, quite vexed and impatient, she gave up her search.
"Although, if I had any knack at all, I could sew up a tent from these yards on yards of canvas," she reflected.
She carried one bolt of cloth on deck and unrolled it.
"This is splendid heavy canvas. It is just the solid, water-proof sort that the fishermen at the lake last summer used for walls and roof of their 'open-faced camp,' as they called it. Now, I wonder. Why can't I lash long strips of canvas to the four posts of the platform for walls; then fasten heavy wires from one post to another and lash a slanting canvas roof to that! I can canopy it with mosquito-bar--a double layer--for there are dozens of yards of netting here. It would be a ridiculously funny little coop, I know that. But it would be far cooler and quieter than the boat. I believe Rod would like it. Anyway, we'll see!"
Jacobs, the commissary man, came aboard a few minutes later with a basket of clean linen. He looked at Marian, already punching eyelet-holes in the heavy duck, with friendly concern.
"Best let me give you a lift at that job, miss," he urged, when Marian had told him her plans. "I have an hour off, and I shall be pleased to help, if you will permit me. I'm an old sailor and I have my needle and palm in my kit. That kind of fancy work is just pastime to me.
Indeed, I'd enjoy doing anything, if it's for Mr. Hallowell. We've never had a better boss, that's certain. You lace those strips of duck, then I'll hang them for you. We'll curtain off just a half of the platform. That will leave the other half for a fine open porch.
We'll have this house built in two jiffies. Then I'll put Mr.
Hallowell's canvas cot and his desk and his chair into place, all ready; so when he comes home to-night he will find himself moved and settled."
It took longer than two jiffies to lash up the canvas shack, to hang mosquito bar, and to move Roderick's simple furniture. Returning from their drive, Sally Lou and Mammy Easter hurried to help; and, thanks to many willing hands, the tiny new abode was finished by afternoon; even to the brackets for Rod's lamp, which Jacobs screwed into a corner post, and the rack for his towels.
At six o'clock, Roderick, f.a.gged out and spattered with mud, came down the ca.n.a.l. He would have gone directly aboard his house-boat if Marian had not called him ash.o.r.e.
"March up here and see my out-door sitting-room," she commanded, with laughing eyes.
"Oh, you and Sally Lou have made a play-house of that platform? That's all very nice. But wait till I can scrub up and swallow a mouthful of supper, Sis. My skiff tipped over with me up the ca.n.a.l, and I'm soaking wet, and dead tired besides."
"Oh, no, Rod. Please come up right away. I can't wait, Slow-Coach. You really must see!"
Roderick was well used to Marian's imperious whims. Reluctantly he climbed the slippery bank. Obediently he poked his head past the flap which Marian held back for him.
There he saw his own cot spread white and fresh under its cool screen; his tidy desk; and even a "shower-bath," which clever Jacobs had contrived from a tiny force-pump and a small galvanized tank, borrowed from the company's store-room.
For a long minute he stared about him without one word. Then his tired face brightened to a glow of incredulous delight.
"Marian Hallowell! Did you rig up this whole contrivance, all for me?
Well!" He sank down on the cot with a sigh of infinite satisfaction.
"You certainly are the best sister I ever had, old lady. First you take my book-keeping off my hands. Next you build me a brand-new house, where I can sleep----whew! Won't I sleep like a log to-night, in all this quiet and coolness! On my word, I don't believe I could stand up to my work, Sis, if you didn't help me out as you do."
Marian grew radiant at his pleasure.
"Building it was no end of fun, Rod. I never enjoyed anything more."
"Only I hope you haven't tired yourself out," said her brother, suddenly anxious. "You haven't the strength to work like this."
"Nonsense! You don't realize how much stronger I am, Rod."
"You surely do look a hundred per cent better than you did a month ago." Roderick looked at her with keen satisfaction. "But you must not overtire yourself."
"Don't be so fussy, brother. It was just a trifle, anyway."
"It won't mean a trifle to me. Quiet and sleep will give me a chance to get my head above water and breathe. h.e.l.lo, neighbors!" For Sally Lou and Ned were poking their unabashed heads through the fly. "Come in and see my new mansion. Guess I'll have to give a house-warming to celebrate. What do you say?"
"There's a celebration already on the way," laughed Burford.
"Commodore McCloskey has just called me up on the long-distance. He says that he and Mrs. McCloskey will stop at the camp bright and early to-morrow morning to escort your sister and Sally Lou to the Barry County burgoo. I accepted the invitation for both you girls, for a 'burgoo,' whatever it means, sounds like a jolly lark; especially since the commodore is to be your host. But I'll admit that I'm puzzled. What do you suppose a burgoo may be?"
The four looked at each other.
"It sounds rather like a barbecue," ventured Sally Lou.
"Hoots! It is far too early in the spring for a barbecue."