Aunt Jane's Nieces and Uncle John

Dan'l roused himself and turned to look at the speaker.

"You have one bad eye," continued Wampus, reflectively. "What make him so? You stick violin bow in eye some day?"

"No," grunted Dan'l.

"Bad eye he no make himself," persisted the little chauffeur. "What make him, then?"

For a moment there was an awkward silence. The girls considered this personal inquiry offensive and regretted admitting Wampus to the room. But after a time the old German answered the question, quietly and in a half amused tone.

"Can you nod guess?" he said. "Herr Gabert hurt mine eye."

"Oh!" exclaimed Wampus, nodding approvingly "You fight duel with him?

Of course. It mus' be."

"I haf one goot eye left, howefer," continued Dan'l. "It vill do me fery well. Dere iss nod much to see out here."

"I know," said Wampus. "But Herr Gabert. What happen to him?"

Again there was a pause. Then the German said slowly:

"I am nod rich; but efery year I send a leetle money to Stuttgart to put some flowers on Herr Gabert's grave."

The chauffeur's face brightened. He got up from his chair and solemnly shook Dan'l's hand.

"You are great musician," he announced. "You can believe it, for it is true. An' you have shake the hand of great chauffeur. I am Wampus."

Dan'l did not answer. He had covered his good eye with his hand.

CHAPTER XVI

THE LODGING AT SPOTVILLE

"Wake up, Patsy: I smell coffee!" called Beth, and soon the two girls were dressed and assisting Myrtle to complete her toilet. Through the open windows came the cool, fragrant breath of morning; the sky was beginning to blush at the coming of the sun.

"To think of our getting up at such unearthly hours!" cried Patsy cheerfully. "But I don't mind it in the least, Beth; do you?"

"I love the daybreak," returned Beth, softly. "We've wasted the best hours of morning abed, Patsy, these many years."

"But there's a difference," said Myrtle, earnestly. "I know the daybreak in the city very well, for nearly all my life I have had to rise in the dark in order to get my breakfast and be at work on time. It is different from this, I assure you; especially in winter, when the chill strikes through to your bones. Even in summer time the air of the city is overheated and close, and the early mornings cheerless and uncomfortable. Then I think it is best to stay in bed as long as you can – if you have nothing else to do. But here, out in the open, it seems a shame not to be up with the birds to breathe the scent of the fields and watch the sun send his heralds ahead of him to proclaim his coming and then climb from the bottomless pit into the sky and take possession of it."

"Why, Myrtle!" exclaimed Patsy, wonderingly; "what a poetic notion.

How did it get into your head, little one?"

Myrtle's sweet face rivaled the sunrise for a moment. She made no reply but only smiled pathetically.

Uncle John's knock upon the door found them ready for breakfast, which old Dan'l had skilfully prepared in the tiny kitchen and now placed upon a round table set out upon the porch. By the time they had finished the simple meal Wampus had had his coffee and prepared the automobile for the day's journey. A few minutes later they said good-bye to the aged musician and took the trail that led through Spotville.

The day's trip was without event. They encountered one or two Indians on the way, jogging slowly along on their shaggy ponies; but the creatures were mild and inoffensive. The road was fairly good and they made excellent time, so that long before twilight Spotville was reached and the party had taken possession of the one small and primitive "hotel" the place afforded. It was a two-story, clapboarded building, the lower floor being devoted to the bar and dining room, while the second story was divided into box-like bedrooms none too clean and very cheaply furnished.

"I imagine we shall find this place 'the limit'," remarked Uncle John ruefully. "But surely we shall be able to stand it for one night," he added, with a philosophic sigh.

"Want meat fer supper?" asked the landlord, a tall, gaunt man who considered himself dressed when he was in his shirt sleeves.

"What kind of meat?" inquired Uncle John, cautiously.

"Kin give yeh fried pork er jerked beef. Ham 'a all out an' the chickens is beginnin' to lay."

"Eggs?"

"Of course, stranger. Thet's the on'y thing Spotville chickens lay, nowadays. I s'pose whar yeh come from they lay biscuits 'n' pork chops."

"No. Door knobs, sometimes," said Mr. Merrick, "but seldom pork chops. Let's have eggs, and perhaps a little fried pork to go with them. Any milk?"

"Canned er fresh?"

"Fresh preferred."

The landlord looked at him steadily.

"Yeh've come a long-way, stranger," he said, "an' yeh must 'a' spent a lot of money, here 'n' there. Air yeh prepared to pay fer thet order in solid cash?"

Uncle John seemed startled, and looked at the Major, who smiled delightedly.

"Are such things expensive, sir?" the latter asked the landlord.

"Why, we don't eat 'em ourselves, 'n' thet's a cold fact. Eggs is eggs, an' brings forty cents a dozen to ship. There's seven cows in town, 'n' forty-one babies, so yeh kin figger what fresh milk's worth."

"Perhaps," said Uncle John mildly, "we can stand the expense – if we won't rob the babies."

"Don't worry 'bout thet. The last autymobble folks as come this way got hot because I charged 'em market prices fer the truck they et. So I'm jest inquirin' beforehand, to save hard feelin's. I've found out one thing 'bout autymobble folks sense I've ben runnin' this hoe-tel, an' thet is thet a good many is ownin' machines thet oughter be payin' their bills instid o' buyin' gasoline."

The Major took him aside. He did not tell the cautious landlord that Mr. Merrick was one of the wealthiest men in America, but he exhibited a roll of bills that satisfied the man his demands would be paid in full.

The touring; party feasted upon eggs and fresh milk, both very delicious but accompanied by odds and ends of food not so palatable. The landlord's two daughters, sallow, sunken cheeked girls, waited on the guests and the landlord's wife did the cooking.

Beth, Patsy and Myrtle retired early, as did Uncle John. The Major, smoking his "bedtime cigar," as he called it, strolled out into the yard and saw Wampus seated in the automobile, also smoking.

"We get an early start to-morrow, Wampus," said the Major. "Better get to bed."

"Here is my bed," returned the chauffeur, quietly.

"But there's a room reserved for you in the hotel."

"I know. Don't want him. I sleep me here."

The Major looked at him reflectively.