The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury Part 7

"And you, Rattlinger, I would like your view of it, most a.s.suredly I would--that is, the legal view."

"Certainly, you are welcome to my point of view both legal and experimental," replied Rattlinger. "I should say to begin with that the uprising is too respectable and tee-total to be ignored. Experimentally I know that a woman is the deuce for persistence when she once gets after a thing. I should say that when a whole army of them get on the war-path the library would have to come. Legally considered, you have not given a promissory note, but you have given them promissory words. There's a point of honor, you see."

"Well, really, gentlemen, I have always intended to give a library or something of that kind, in the end, you know, but I don't fancy being forced to do it--prematurely, so to speak; and you can't blame me for that, most a.s.suredly you can't."

"No! No! Mr. Schwarmer," sang the President: "You're a free untrammeled soul An undivided atom within a mighty whole."

"But you'd better divide up with the ladies, Mr. Schwarmer," laughed Rattlinger, "or you will have to enter the field against them; I don't believe you want to do that. At least I shouldn't. I should know that I would have to beat a retreat in the end and I should rather beat a retreat in the beginning while I could do it and save my honor; as the famous French General always did. I would not wait 'til I had a lot of indictments social or otherwise tacked onto my coat-skirts. As I understand it they have quite a number of things laid up against you; and you know the ladies are famous for making things look picturesque."

The laugh of the President at this remark was so contagious that Schwarmer couldn't help joining in.

"It's all over with you, my good man," said the President, slapping him on the shoulder as he proceeded to put on his hat.

"The women people have pleaded guilty--guilty of doing a good deed and they have won their case according to Lawyer Rattlinger's opinion. You had better send the library along at once. A little concession of that sort makes everything run as smooth as silk."

The President and the lawyer went home to tea and Schwarmer returned to the city on the next train. Nothing was heard from him until September first. Then he came on in his rus.h.i.+ng way with a surveyor, two architects and half a dozen contractors. The news ran through the town like wild fire that he was really going to begin the long looked for library building. It was to be on the vacant lot where he was born. The house not being of a substantial character had been demolished long ago and the lot itself had been voted a nuisance by the adjacent neighbors; so there were more reasons than one for rejoicing. The ladies were especially delighted.

"Behold the result of your maiden speech!" exclaimed Ralph when he came home with the good news.

"Newly married speech," laughed Ruth; but as Ralph went on to tell of the large preparations which were being made she shook her pretty head and "hoped Schwarmer would not be so idiotic as to put all his donation into a splendid building and leave nothing for books. A good plain, commodious building is what we want. Not a palatial, monumental thing that will make our homes look like hovels and turn out to be a monument for himself, for us to keep in order."

"Seneca the Sensible," were Ralph's next words, "but, you are right, dear love," he added, "Schwarmer needs watching. 'Eternal vigilance' is the price when you deal with such a man. The corporation is not obliged to accept his library unless it is properly furnished and endowed. I'll speak to the Golden Rule President about that, at once. Bless your heart for putting it into my head."

"Who in the world is Dombey bringing us?" exclaimed Ruth as her dog came leaping and frisking up the walk. "He acts as though he had secured a great prize."

"Millionaire Schwarmer's daughter as I live," exclaimed Ralph! "Isn't it comical though. I never knew before that dogs could be obsequious! See that brute trying to smile."

The girl came on slowly and rather timidly up the long walk, while the dog rushed backward and forward and indulged in all sorts of joyous antics.

"Excuse me for coming," she said when she got within speaking distance, "but the dog would have it so."

"Dombey knew you would be welcome," replied Ruth.

"He met me at the train and followed me all around to every place I went, but when I got to this street he took the lead. I went on but he came after me and cried and took hold of my dress. I guessed what he wanted so I came a little way with him; but when I turned to go back he whined and made such a time of it, that I gave up and came home with him."

"And now he wants you to come up on the verandah and rest," laughed Ruth, looking down into the blue eyes. She thought she had never seen any so blue and true looking.

"I will a moment, but I can't stay. I came up with father. I wanted to see poor Mary who got scared and lost her baby Fourth of July night."

"I heard she was better," said Ruth.

"Father heard so too, and thought I hadn't better come, but I would come. I know she feels bad about her baby and I want to tell her how sorry I am and how much I blame Mr. Bombs." The blue eyes filled with tears.

"Fireworks are dangerous things," said Ruth. She felt her own eyes getting misty and she was wondering if Schwarmer's daughter knew of their action in regard to the Schwarmer fireworks.

"Yes, they are dangerous," said Miss Schwarmer, "and they are horrid--all that I have ever seen; and I blame father for ever buying such awful things to give away. I don't believe he ever will any more. There are so many pretty things to buy."

"Bless your heart," said Ruth. "I'm sure he never will if you ask him not to."

"I have asked him not to and I've blamed him. He is going to let me buy things after this, for the children here."

"O that will be lovely," exclaimed Ruth--"then we shall see you often shall we not?"

"I wish I could stay here always," said Miss Schwarmer. "I don't like to travel but we're all going over to London with Mr. Bombs. I don't like him, though he is honest with me. I blame him for not being honest with others. Father says he was educated to amuse and mystify the people. Isn't it horrid to be mystified?"

Ruth a.s.sured her it was and then she left with Dombey at her heels.

"Dombey knows," said Ruth; "and it's no wonder. She is so good and honest."

"The wonder is that Mr. Schwarmer should have such a child," said Ralph, "or Mrs. Schwarmer either from all we hear about her. What a pity that she should be dragged around the world against her will; but she 'blames' them and no doubt but they need her blame."

"And Mr. Bombs, the man that's been educated to amuse and mystify people. He needs her blame without the shadow of a doubt; and he will end by falling desperately in love with her," said Ruth. "It came over me like a flash, when she was speaking of him."

"Then it must be so," laughed Ralph, "for you have a sample on hand. I hope she will marry him and put him to beneficent uses."

When Ralph came home to tea he brought another item of news. Some kind of a building was going to be constructed on Schwarmer Hill; and no one as yet had been able to find out what it was to be.

"A Bombs' mystification, perhaps," sighed Ruth.

The library building went on very rapidly and by the time the cold weather set in, it was enclosed and ready for inside work. It gave evidence of being a plain, substantial, common sense structure, with nothing showy or monumental about it. Whether it was due to Ruth's original suggestions, Ralph's timely action, Lawyer Rattlinger's shrewdness or President Hartling's practical ability, was not known. The one thing that was known, however, and made sure of by every taxpayer in town was that it would not be saddled onto them for support. That it was to be an absolutely free gift. That there would be a liberal sum for books and a sufficient sum set aside to keep it in good running order.

The knowledge concerning the building on Schwarmer Hill was not so clear. In fact it was "extremely hazy," as Lawyer Rattlinger expressed it. And yet there was no seeming of secrecy about the matter. The boss-workman as well as the architect and builders were remarkably unanimous in saying when questioned, that it was to be a sort of amphitheatre for sports and games of various kinds.

"That settles it, or rather unsettles it," said the President, "for there are various kinds--a large number of them. They are very various and very brutal many of them. Yes, a great many of them all the way down from the Indian LaCrosse game and Fillipino Hurdle races to Jiu-Jitsu--the treacherous j.a.panese game of ankle and neck-breaking. Even the college sports must be pursued with the old time barbaric violence and virulence. If we send a son to college in these days to cultivate his mental powers, we may expect he will be swept into the rage for physical culture, and wind up by losing an eye or two fingers at the least."

This was the President's point of view very decidedly after having had a friend who cultivated his physical powers while in college to that extent; but he was ready to confess that he had not always held such a view. He recalled with regret a time when he had encouraged brutal games by inviting a party of tired young men and women to witness a football game.

"What an idiocy," he exclaimed, "when there were so many perfectly harmless amus.e.m.e.nts which I could have taken them to; but I didn't think about it. I wanted to take them where they wanted to go, instead of wanting to take them where they ought to go and managing to make it pleasant for them."

"And so there was a Providence in your friend's hurt after all, you see," said the minister.

"No, I don't see it," replied the President, "else I should have to accuse Providence of hitting the wrong man. I ought to have been the one to have had my eye plucked out or my hand plucked off. For I had been taught the good old Quaker rule, to avoid all games that are gotten up by men, for the purpose of beating each other; I'm going to stand by that rule after this, and I hope Schwarmer can be induced to draw the lines at the dangerous games."

Ruth hoped so too, but her solicitude was not to be put aside. Every week she would have Ralph go with her to The Hill presumably for a walk, but in reality to see what the huge thing looked like. She feared it was going to be something objectionable and unhelpable.

"It doesn't matter so much, does it dear, if he keeps it to himself--that is if it doesn't slop over onto us?"

"Yes it does matter, Ralph--that is if it turns out to be an arena for pyrotechnics and that horrible Bombs is in it. If he is, it will be an advertis.e.m.e.nt for the blinding and demoralization of every youth within sight of it. Powder and dynamite will be the fas.h.i.+on and our Fourth of July horror will rage again. O Ralph! Ralph!"

"Here am I, dear! Trust! trust! We will be on the watch-tower. If Mr. Bombs comes we will see what we can do with him. There's always something to be done if we can only keep a level head. You must not get too much excited over it, dear, you know the reason why. You remember the gardener's wife, poor soul. Let's stop and see her on our way down."

"Yes, Ralph," replied Ruth eagerly. "Perhaps she will know if Miss Schwarmer is coming up this Fourth. If there is anybody in the world who can influence that perverse Mr. Bombs rightly I believe it is she."

Mary Langley, the gardener's wife, had never recovered from the hurt and fright caused by the explosion of Mr. Bombs' rocket. Hers was one of those double hurts for which materia medicae has no remedy. She recovered sufficiently to be able to attend to her household duties and to the wants of her two little children. Miss Schwarmer's well filled purse had helped her thus far; but it could not tide her over the invalid line. Dreams of fiery serpents and the lost baby kept her from refres.h.i.+ng sleep night after night. Her husband ridiculed her in vain for her so-called woman's weakness. Her hurt was too deep for money or ridicule to mend. She grew thinner and thinner, day after day, and ghostly white until it was rumored about town that she was going into a decline.

The Norwoods were ill prepared, however, for the frail spiritual looking creature who met them at the door.

"Beg pardon," said Ruth, "perhaps you are not well enough to receive us. I have heard about you and have been wanting to come and see you ever since; but I thought you had so many friends--and better ones--at least those who could do more for you. You are well acquainted with the Schwarmers, of course. Miss Schwarmer is lovely and she spoke to me so kindly about you."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Langley, "Miss Adelaide is very, very kind and as good and honest as she can be and she did help me all she could, bless her heart, in deed and word; but she had to go away and it seemed as though n.o.body else knew just how I felt, and she so young too--the others made fun of me."

Tears came into the hollow eyes as she stopped speaking.

"Made fun of you?" questioned Ruth, looking at Ralph wonderingly.

"O! the brutes!" he exclaimed, angrily. He could not trust himself to say more. He wanted to ask who the brutes were and why her husband did not resent such cruel insult?

"I suppose I was foolish," she said apologetically. "Even my husband can't quite understand why I was so frightened--frightened out of my wits, he says; nor why I can't get over it. Why I want to go away from this place. He hired to Mr. Schwarmer for three years and he can't go and it wouldn't do to quarrel with him. Poor James! He works hard all day and is so tired at night; and night is the time I feel the terror coming on!"

Ruth gave a little sob.

"I can understand you, dear Mrs. Langley. It's the horrible fireworks and their promoters you are afraid of, and you are afraid they will come again. I used to feel that way until we went to work to get rid of them; but you are helpless here on the Schwarmer grounds. Then there's the new building. Have you any idea what use that will be put to?"

"My husband talks of beautiful horses and races and fairs and things of that kind, but I have my fears. I know they won't let Fourth of July pa.s.s without doing something dreadful; but I shan't be here then."

Ruth knew that she meant that she expected to die before that time, but she would not take it so.

"Indeed you must not stay here. You must come over and stay with us. We are not going to have any of those horrible things. You must come, you and the children, too; if you do not come of your own accord, we will come and take you away," laughed Ruth.

Mrs. Langley promised to come and Ruth and Ralph went home far better pleased than they would have been if they had been returning bridal calls in the ordinary stereotyped fas.h.i.+on.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE QUERY. RUTH'S DOG DOMBEY BRINGS HER A NOTE.

The first day of May Mr. Schwarmer came and brought a carload of workmen. There had been a very large number from the beginning. The Library building was completed and the building on the hill had been going on very rapidly, particularly through the months of March and April, but the pace was nothing to what it was after Mr. Schwarmer's advent. The large lot on which the main building stood was enclosed by a high wall with gates, elevated seats and awning posts. The building itself was decorated, winged, painted, balconied and improved in wonderful ways. Band stands and observation towers arose as if by magic.

Mr. Schwarmer was a man who liked to rush things, and he was here and there and everywhere, pus.h.i.+ng the work. When questioned as to its uses he laughed and said: "That is a query even to myself. Come to think of it, I guess I'll name it 'The Query.' It would be a good name for it and might be spelled with one e or two. A very good one truly. A capital one, since its gates are to be open to all the queer and popular things--that is the most popular, amusing, instructive and queer; and as there is always a question as to which is the most truly popular et cetera. The people of Killsbury and the county can hold their fairs here if they wish, and bring their showiest bed quilts and biggest pumpkins or things of that kind, most a.s.suredly they can."

A week after Mr. Schwarmer's arrival Mrs. Schwarmer and Adelaide came, bringing with them the Librarian and the books. The work of putting the Library in order was to be rushed also, for it was to be formally opened and handed over to the town on the Fourth of July, with appropriate ceremonies.

On the day of their arrival Dombey did not make his appearance at dinner--a function which he was in the habit of observing as punctually as the other members of the family.

"Where in the world is Dombey!" exclaimed Ruth. "You don't suppose he has gone to the train to meet Adelaide Schwarmer again? Mrs. Langley told me she was expected today."

"Very likely," laughed Ralph. "Dogs get habits as well as the rest of us. See, there he comes, running like Jehu! He hasn't captured her this time; but he acts as though chain lightning had struck him. Something is up you may be sure."

And so there was. Dombey came rus.h.i.+ng up to Ruth with a note tied to his collar. It was from Adelaide Schwarmer, inviting her to meet them at the Library the next morning. They (she and her mother) wanted to consult her about some of the arrangements. "Father," she said, "was very busy and had given it all into their hands to manage."

"It's well he has," said Ralph angrily. "You wouldn't have my consent to go, if he were going to be there."

"Oh I don't think he is really a bad man, Ralph. Only blind with regard to the characters of those about him, just as he is custom-blind in regard to other things. Anyway I forgive him for his daughter's sake."

"Better wait until you see what performances he introduces on Schwarmer Hill."

"As long as Miss Schwarmer is there I feel as though the Hill has a guardian angel--or a recording angel at least, Ralph."

"Be careful though. Don't let them harness you into doing any hard work at the library. You know rich women are apt to do that sort of thing and you have to be extra careful of your health just now. Your mother would never forgive me if I should let you overdo while she is away."

"Don't be foolish, Ralph. You know how it has always been with papa and mamma. They were over-solicitous. I was never so strong and healthy in my life as I am now. I feel as though I could work, and should be glad to in such a cause. Only think of it! The gift of books and books and books and books instead of firecrackers and cartridges and toy pistols! An invitation to come and help arrange them instead of an order to pack up and leave the country to get rid of the horrible Fourth! Then the exercises in the Library instead of the carnival of death and destruction. Can you realize it, Ralph? Do you really take it all in?"

She seized hold of his arms and gave him a vigorous shaking up.

"You see Dombey got here first; but how well you are looking," exclaimed Adelaide, when Ruth entered the library. "How plump and fair you have grown since I was here! Let me kiss you."

A pink glow came to Ruth's cheek which made her pretty face look still prettier, and had its effect on Adelaide also. She added shyly: "Are you tired? Did you walk? I ought to have come for you in my phaeton."

"My husband brought me," replied Ruth, recovering herself in time to meet the formal salutation and the cold discriminating glance of Mrs. Schwarmer, with wifely dignity.

"I trust your father and mother are usually well. Perhaps I ought to have sent for them to a.s.sist me in this matter; but Adelaide told me you were very enthusiastic about the library and knew everything about books. There's an alcove set aside for the very, very choice ones--books that no one should be allowed to handle, who is ignorant of their value, so the Librarian says; but he has so much to do, we are going to help him all we can."

"Papa and mamma are in Chicago with an uncle who is very ill--not expected to live day after day."

"How sad," said Mrs. Schwarmer, in the even tone which made it difficult to tell whether she meant the uncle's sickness or the father's and mother's absence from home. "Mr. Bombs is in Chicago, too. He went there to meet Mr. Pang, the celebrated Pyrotechnic King. Chicago is to celebrate its centennial before long, and Mr. Pang is to do wonders there. A fac simile of old Fort Dearborn will be built on purpose for him to burn down, and he will give a realistic representation of the "Great Chicago Fire" by covering the roofs of all the highest and largest buildings in the city with Roman lights, which are to be lighted all at once and burn for hours and hours, and make it appear as though the city were really being burned up again. No doubt it will be splendid. Did Mr. Bombs say anything about it in the letter you got this morning, Adelaide? I was too busy to read it."

"He didn't say he'd seen Pang himself, but the Pang Co. are making great preparations for the burning," said Adelaide, "and I think it's horrid. It's bad enough to have a city half burned up by accident; but to pay thousands of dollars to have it burned up in play is silly and sinful and I'm going to tell Bombs so when he comes back."

"Hush, Adelaide," said Mrs. Schwarmer, authoritatively. "You are too young to express such strong opinions."

"My poor uncle lost his all in that terrible fire, his wife and children even. It broke him down utterly. He has never seen a well day since," said Ruth. "To him even the shadow of such an experience would be dreadful."

"Indeed! what a pity!" said Mrs. Schwarmer in the same even tone that left one in doubt as to where her pity came in, as she went into an adjoining room to have another consultation with the Librarian, after which she rustled out to her carriage and drove swiftly away.

"I am going to take you home in my phaeton when you are ready to go," said Adelaide; "but you must see the rare books first."

"Certainly," replied Ruth, "and I would like to do something to help you, and perhaps I can."

"It would help me to have you here, to see you and talk with you," replied Adelaide; "but you must not climb or reach or handle the heavy books. It isn't necessary. I can climb like a cat, and I know some nice boys who would handle them as carefully as you or I or mamma. It's all moons.h.i.+ne, what the Librarian says about them. They will have to be handled by anybody who chooses, if they are going to be of any use to the town."

"Ralph would be delighted to help--help climb," laughed Ruth, "I know he would. Then how about the catalogues? I can write fairly well--so my husband says?"

"Oh I'm so glad, Mrs. Ruth. Pardon, let me call you Ruth. It's such a pretty name. I write a horrid hand. Besides, I want your company. Mamma is going to be awfully busy up to the house, and Mr. Bombs is coming back in a few days. May I drive around for you every morning at ten o'clock?"

"Yes indeed you may," replied Ruth. "I shall be delighted to come and be with you and help you and talk with you, I'm sure I shall. We think alike about so many things--about monstrous celebrations and dangerous fireworks and the burning up of money, when so much is needed to make the poor comfortable, and improve the world. As though there were not sad accidents enough in the world without going to work and making accidents. Only think of the poor people of Martinique! Only just recovered from the catastrophe of Mont Pelee when a hurricane comes and sweeps away their homes again! I wonder the horrible Fire-kings don't go over there and try to amuse the people with a Mont Pelee eruption! This making sport out of such terrible happenings seems to be the rage just now."

"King Pang has invented a Mont Pelee firecracker," said Adelaide; "and a huge noise-maker it is--fifteen feet long and explodes fifty times! Do you know we visited him when we were in London and I didn't like him at all, though he is awful rich and entertained us splendidly. He invents fiery shows and goes all over the world to pile up money out of them, although he is worth millions already."

"Please tell me about him," exclaimed Ruth eagerly. "I wonder if he is the one that I heard so much boasting about in Canada. The one that wooled the Americans into buying their 'Independence Day annihilators' of him they said. Those horrible cannon crackers, and things of that sort which kill and maim so many every year--dangerous things that never ought to be manufactured or sold in any country under the heavens. He seems like an arch-fiend to me."

"He is as proud as Lucifer anyway," replied Adelaide. "The whole family are as proud as they can be. They have a coat of arms and everything as magnificent as the royal family."