And that, in the end, was the answer I sent to Carver with his five dollars.I spent an hour in my room trying to compose and write a sarcastic reply to his note, but I finally gave it up.Then I put the money in an envelope, addressed the latter, and sent it to the big house by Lute.Lute was delighted with the errand.
"You'll explain to Dorindy, will you?" he asked."She cal'lates I'm goin' to clean the henhouse.But I can do that some other time.""You can--yes."
"Do you know--" Lute leaned against the clothes post and prepared to philosophize."Do you know," he observed, "that I don't take no stock in cleanin' henhouses and such?""Don't you? I'm surprised."
"You're surprised 'cause you ain't thought it out.That's my way;I always think things out.Most folks are selfish.They want to do what they want to do, and they want others to want the same thing.If the others don't want it, then they like to make 'em have it; anyhow.Dorindy is crazy on cleanin'.She wouldn't live in a dirty house no more'n she'd live in a lobster pot.It's the way she's made.But a hen ain't made that way.A hen LIKES dirt;she scratches in it and digs holes in it to waller in, and heaves it over herself all day long.If you left it to the hens would THEY clean their house? I guess not! So, I say what's the use of cruelizin' 'em by makin' 'em live clean when they don't want to?
I--"
"Wait a minute," I interrupted."Lute, you're wasting your breath.
It is Dorinda you should explain all this to, not to me.And you're wasting my time.I want you to take that envelope to Mr.
Carver; and I want you to go now."
"Well, I'm goin', ain't I? I was only just sayin'--""Say it when you come back.And if Mr.Carver asks you why I sent that envelope to him be sure and give him the message I gave you.
Do you remember it?"
"Sartin.That what you done wan't wuth so much.""Not exactly.That what I saved wasn't worth it.""All right.I'll remember.But what did you save, Ros? Dorindy says 'twas somethin' you found afloat in the bay.If it was somethin' belongin' to them Coltons I'd have took the money, no matter what the thing was wuth.They can afford to pay and, if Iwas you, I'd take the reward."
"I have my reward.Now go."
I had my reward and I believed it worth much more than five dollars.I had learned my lesson.I knew now exactly how I was regarded by the occupants of the big house and by the townspeople as well.I should cherish no more illusions as to my importance in their eyes.I meant to be really independent from that time on.Idid not care--really did not care--for anything or anybody outside my immediate household.I was back in the position I had occupied for years, but with one difference: I had an ambition now.It was to make both sides in the Shore Lane controversy realize that George Taylor was right when he said I had the whip-hand.By the Almighty, they should dance when I cracked that whip!
My first opportunity to crack it came a day or two later, when Captain Dean called upon me.He had a definite proposition to make, although his Yankee shrewdness and caution prevented his making it until he had discussed the weather and other unimportant trifles.Then he leaned against the edge of my work-bench--we were in the boathouse--and began to beat up to windward of his proposal.
"Ros," he said, "you remember I told you you was all right, when Imet you at the bank t'other day."
"I remember," I answered.
"Yes.Well, I cal'late you know what I meant by that."I did not pretend ignorance of his meaning.
"I presume," I replied, "that you meant I was right in not selling that strip of land to Mr.Colton.""That's what I meant.You kept your promise to me and I shan't forget it.Nor the town won't forget it, neither.Would you mind tellin' me just what happened between you and His Majesty?""Not at all.He said he wanted to buy the Shore Lane strip and Irefused to sell it to him.He said I was crazy and an infernal robber and I told him to go to the devil.""WHAT! you didn't!"
"I did."
Captain Jed slapped his knee and shouted in delight.He insisted on shaking hands with me.
"By the great and everlastin'!" he declared, between laughs, "you're all right, Ros Paine! I said you was and now I'll swear to it.Told old Colton to go to the devil! If that ain't--oh, I wish I'd been there!"I went on sand-papering a valve plug.He walked up and down the floor, chuckling.
"Well," he said, at last, "you've made yourself solid in Denboro, anyhow.And I told you you shouldn't lose nothin' by it.The Selectmen held a meetin' last night and they feel, same as me, that that Shore Lane shan't be shut off.You understand what that means to you, don't you?"I looked at him, coolly.
"No," I answered.
"You don't! It means the town's decided to buy that strip of land of yours.Definitely decided, practically speakin'.Now what'll you sell it to us for?"I put down the valve plug."Captain," said I, "that land is not for sale.""Not for SALE? What do you mean by that?""I mean that I have decided not to sell it, for the present, at least.Neither to Colton nor any one else."He could not believe it.Of course I would not sell it to Colton.
Colton was a stuck-up, selfish city aristocrat who thought all creation ought to belong to him.But the town was different.Did I realize that it was the town I lived in that was asking to buy now? The town of which I was a citizen? Think of what the town had done for me.
"Very well," I answered."I'm willing to think.What has it done for me?"It had--it had--well, it had done a whole lot.As a citizen of that town I owed it a--a--"Look here, Captain Dean," I interrupted, "there's no use in our arguing the matter.I have decided not to sell.""Don't talk so foolish.Course you'll sell if you get money enough.""So Colton said, but I shan't."
"Ros, I ain't got any authority to do it, but I shouldn't wonder if I could get you three hundred dollars for that strip.""It isn't a question of price."
