BARGAIN DAY AT TUTT HOUSE By George Randolph Chester (1869- )

[From McClure's Magazine, June, 1905; copyright, 1905, by the S.S.McClure Co.; republished by the author's permission.]

I
Just as the stage rumbled over the rickety old bridge, creaking andgroaning, the sun came from behind the clouds that had frowned all theway, and the passengers cheered up a bit. The two richly dressedmatrons who had been so utterly and unnecessarily oblivious to thepresence of each other now suspended hostilities for the moment bymutual and unspoken consent, and viewed with relief the little,golden-tinted valley and the tree-clad road just beyond. Therespective husbands of these two ladies exchanged a mere glance, nomore, of comfort. They, too, were relieved, though more by themomentary truce than by anything else. They regretted very much to becompelled to hate each other, for each had reckoned up his vis-à-visas a rather proper sort of fellow, probably a man of some achievement,used to good living and good company.
Extreme iciness was unavoidable between them, however. When onestranger has a splendidly preserved blonde wife and the other asplendidly preserved brunette wife, both of whom have won socialprominence by years of hard fighting and aloofness, there remainsnothing for the two men but to follow the lead, especially whendirectly under the eyes of the leaders.
The son of the blonde matron smiled cheerfully as the welcome lightflooded the coach.
He was a nice-looking young man, of about twenty-two, one might judge,and he did his smiling, though in a perfectly impersonal and correctsort of manner, at the pretty daughter of the brunette matron. Thepretty daughter also smiled, but her smile was demurely directed atthe trees outside, clad as they were in all the flaming glory of theirautumn tints, glistening with the recent rain and dripping with gemsthat sparkled and flashed in the noonday sun as they fell.
It is marvelous how much one can see out of the corner of the eye,while seeming to view mere scenery.
The driver looked down, as he drove safely off the bridge, and shookhis head at the swirl of water that rushed and eddied, dark and muddy,close up under the rotten planking; then he cracked his whip, and thehorses sturdily attacked the little hill.
Thick, overhanging trees on either side now dimmed the light again,and the two plump matrons once more glared past the oppositeshoulders, profoundly unaware of each other. The husbands took on thepolitely surly look required of them. The blonde son's eyes stillsought the brunette daughter, but it was furtively done and quiteunsuccessfully, for the daughter was now doing a little glaring on herown account. The blonde matron had just swept her eyes across thedaughter's skirt, estimating the fit and material of it with contemptso artistically veiled that it could almost be understood in the dark.

II
The big bays swung to the brow of the hill with ease, and dashed intoa small circular clearing, where a quaint little two-story building,with a mossy watering-trough out in front, nestled under the shade ofmajestic old trees that reared their brown and scarlet crowns proudlyinto the sky. A long, low porch ran across the front of the structure,and a complaining sign hung out announcing, in dim, weather-fleckedletters on a cracked board, that this was the "Tutt House." Agray-headed man, in brown overalls and faded blue jumper, stood on theporch and shook his fist at the stage as it whirled by.
"What a delightfully old-fashioned inn!" exclaimed the prettydaughter. "How I should like to stop there over night!"
"You would probably wish yourself away before morning, Evelyn,"replied her mother indifferently. "No doubt it would be a mere siegeof discomfort."
The blonde matron turned to her husband. The pretty daughter had beenlooking at the picturesque "inn" between the heads of this lady andher son.
"Edward, please pull down the shade behind me," she directed. "Thereis quite a draught from that broken window."
The pretty daughter bit her lip. The brunette matron continued tostare at the shade in the exact spot upon which her gaze had beenbefore directed, and she never quivered an eyelash. The young manseemed very uncomfortable, and he tried to look his apologies to thepretty daughter, but she could not see him now, not even if her eyeshad been all corners.
They were bowling along through another avenue of trees when thedriver suddenly shouted, "Whoa there!"
The horses were brought up with a jerk that was well nigh fatal to theassortment of dignity inside the coach. A loud roaring could be heard,both ahead and in the rear, a sharp splitting like a fusillade ofpistol shots, then a creaking and tearing of timbers. The driver bentsuddenly forward.
"Gid ap!" he cried, and the horses sprang forward with a lurch. Heswung them around a sharp bend with a skillful hand and poised hisweight above the brake as they plunged at terrific speed down a steepgrade. The roaring was louder than ever now, and it became deafeningas they suddenly emerged from the thick underbrush at the bottom ofthe declivity.
"Caught, by gravy!" ejaculated the driver, and, for the second time,he brought the coach to an abrupt stop.
"Do see what is the matter, Ralph," said the blonde matronimpatiently.
Thus commanded, the young man swung out and asked the driver about it.
"Paintsville dam's busted," he was informed. "I been a-lookin' fer itthis many a year, an' this here freshet done it. You see the hollerthere? Well, they's ten foot o' water in it, an' it had ort to bestone dry. The bridge is tore out behind us, an' we're stuck here tillthat water runs out. We can't git away till to-morry, anyways."
He pointed out the peculiar topography of the place, and Ralph gotback in the coach.
"We're practically on a flood-made island," he exclaimed, with one eyeon the pretty daughter, "and we shall have to stop over night at thatquaint, old-fashioned inn we passed a few moments ago."
The pretty daughter's eyes twinkled, and he thought he caught a swift,direct gleam from under the long lashes--but he was not sure.
"Dear me, how annoying," said the blonde matron, but the brunettematron still stared, without the slightest trace of interest inanything else, at the infinitesimal spot she had selected on theaffronting window-shade.
The two men gave sighs of resignation, and cast carefully concealedglances at each other, speculating on the possibility of a cigar and aglass, and maybe a good story or two, or possibly even a game of pokerafter the evening meal. Who could tell what might or might not happen?

III
When the stage drew up in front of the little hotel, it found UncleBilly Tutt prepared for his revenge. In former days the stage hadalways stopped at the Tutt House for the noonday meal. Since the newrailway was built through the adjoining county, however, the stagetrip became a mere twelve-mile, cross-country transfer from onerailroad to another, and the stage made a later trip, allowing thepassengers plenty of time for "dinner" before they started. Day afterday, as the coach flashed by with its money-laden passengers, UncleBilly had hoped that it would break down. But this was better, muchbetter. The coach might be quickly mended, but not the flood.
"I'm a-goin' t' charge 'em till they squeal," he declared to thetimidly protesting Aunt Margaret, "an' then I'm goin' t' charge 'em aleast mite more, drat 'em!"
He retreated behind the rough wooden counter that did duty as a desk,slammed open the flimsy, paper-bound "cash book" that served as aregister, and planted his elbows uncompromisingly on either side ofit.
"Let 'em bring in their own traps," he commented, and Aunt Margaretfled, ashamed and conscience-smitten, to the kitchen. It seemed awful.
The first one out of the coach was the husband of the brunette matron,and, proceeding under instructions, he waited neither for luggage norwomen folk, but hurried straight into the Tutt House. The other manwould have been neck and neck with him in the race, if it had not beenthat he paused to seize two suitcases and had the misfortune to dropone, which burst open and scattered a choice assortment of lingeriefrom one end of the dingy coach to the other.
In the confusion of rescuing the fluffery, the owner of the suitcasehad to sacrifice her hauteur and help her husband and son block up theaisle, while the other matron had the ineffable satisfaction of being_kept waiting_, at last being enabled to say, sweetly and with themost polite consideration:
"Will you kindly allow me to pass?"
The blonde matron raised up and swept her skirts back perfectly flat.She was pale but collected. Her husband was pink but collected. Herson was crimson and uncollected. The brunette daughter could not havefound an eye anywhere in his countenance as she rustled out after hermother.
"I do hope that Belmont has been able to secure choice quarters," thetriumphing matron remarked as her daughter joined her on the ground."This place looked so very small that there can scarcely be more thanone comfortable suite in it."
It was a vital thrust. Only a splendidly cultivated self-controlprevented the blonde matron from retaliating upon the unfortunate whohad muddled things. Even so, her eyes spoke whole shelves of volumes.
The man who first reached the register wrote, in a straight blackscrawl, "J. Belmont Van Kamp, wife, and daughter." There being nospace left for his address, he put none down.
"I want three adjoining rooms, en suite if possible," he demanded.
"Three!" exclaimed Uncle Billy, scratching his head. "Won't two do ye?I ain't got but six bedrooms in th' house. Me an' Marg't sleeps inone, an' we're a-gittin' too old fer a shake-down on th' floor. I'llhave t' save one room fer th' driver, an' that leaves four. You taketwo now---"
Mr. Van Kamp cast a hasty glance out of the window, The other man wasgetting out of the coach. His own wife was stepping on the porch.
"What do you ask for meals and lodging until this time to-morrow?" heinterrupted.
The decisive moment had arrived. Uncle Billy drew a deep breath.
"Two dollars a head!" he defiantly announced. There! It was out! Hewished Margaret had stayed to hear him say it.
The guest did not seem to be seriously shocked, and Uncle Billy wasbeginning to be sorry he had not said three dollars, when Mr. Van Kampstopped the landlord's own breath.
"I'll give you fifteen dollars for the three best rooms in the house,"he calmly said, and Landlord Tutt gasped as the money fluttered downunder his nose.
"Jis' take yore folks right on up, Mr. Kamp," said Uncle Billy,pouncing on the money. "Th' rooms is th' three right along th' hullfront o' th' house. I'll be up and make on a fire in a minute. Jis'take th' _Jonesville Banner_ an' th' _Uticky Clarion_ along with ye."
As the swish of skirts marked the passage of the Van Kamps up the widehall stairway, the other party swept into the room.
The man wrote, in a round flourish, "Edward Eastman Ellsworth, wife,and son."
"I'd like three choice rooms, en suite," he said.
"Gosh!" said Uncle Billy, regretfully. "That's what Mr. Kamp wanted,fust off, an' he got it. They hain't but th' little room over th'kitchen left. I'll have to put you an' your wife in that, an' let yourboy sleep with th' driver."
The consternation in the Ellsworth party was past calculating by anyknown standards of measurement. The thing was an outrage! It was notto be borne! They would not submit to it!
Uncle Billy, however, secure in his mastery of the situation, calmlyquartered them as he had said. "An' let 'em splutter all they wantto," he commented comfortably to himself.

IV
The Ellsworths were holding a family indignation meeting on the broadporch when the Van Ramps came contentedly down for a walk, and brushedby them with unseeing eyes.
"It makes a perfectly fascinating suite," observed Mrs. Van Kamp, in apleasantly conversational tone that could be easily overheard byanyone impolite enough to listen. "That delightful old-fashionedfireplace in the middle apartment makes it an ideal sitting-room, andthe beds are so roomy and comfortable."
"I just knew it would be like this!" chirruped Miss Evelyn. "Iremarked as we passed the place, if you will remember, how charming itwould be to stop in this dear, quaint old inn over night. All mywishes seem to come true this year."
These simple and, of course, entirely unpremeditated remarks were asvinegar and wormwood to Mrs. Ellsworth, and she gazed after theretreating Van Kamps with a glint in her eye that would make oneunderstand Lucretia Borgia at last.
Her son also gazed after the retreating Van Kamp. She had an exquisitefigure, and she carried herself with a most delectable grace. As theparty drew away from the inn she dropped behind the elders andwandered off into a side path to gather autumn leaves.
Ralph, too, started off for a walk, but naturally not in the samedirection.
"Edward!" suddenly said Mrs. Ellsworth. "I want you to turn thosepeople out of that suite before night!"
"Very well," he replied with a sigh, and got up to do it. He hadwrecked a railroad and made one, and had operated successful cornersin nutmegs and chicory. No task seemed impossible. He walked in to seethe landlord.
"What are the Van Kamps paying you for those three rooms?" he asked.
"Fifteen dollars," Uncle Billy informed him, smoking one of Mr. VanKamp's good cigars and twiddling his thumbs in huge content.
"I'll give you thirty for them. Just set their baggage outside andtell them the rooms are occupied."
"No sir-ree!" rejoined Uncle Billy. "A bargain's a bargain, an' Iallus stick to one I make."
Mr. Ellsworth withdrew, but not defeated. He had never supposed thatsuch an absurd proposition would be accepted. It was only a feeler,and he had noticed a wince of regret in his landlord. He sat down onthe porch and lit a strong cigar. His wife did not bother him. Shegazed complacently at the flaming foliage opposite, and allowed him tothink. Getting impossible things was his business in life, and she hadconfidence in him.
"I want to rent your entire house for a week," he announced to UncleBilly a few minutes later. It had occurred to him that the flood mightlast longer than they anticipated.
Uncle Billy's eyes twinkled.
"I reckon it kin be did," he allowed. "I reckon a _ho_-tel man's got aright to rent his hull house ary minute."
"Of course he has. How much do you want?"
Uncle Billy had made one mistake in not asking this sort of folksenough, and he reflected in perplexity.
"Make me a offer," he proposed. "Ef it hain't enough I'll tell ye. Youwant to rent th' hull place, back lot an' all?"
"No, just the mere house. That will be enough," answered the otherwith a smile. He was on the point of offering a hundred dollars, whenhe saw the little wrinkles about Mr. Tutt's eyes, and he saidseventy-five.
"Sho, ye're jokin'!" retorted Uncle Billy. He had been considered afine horse-trader in that part of the country. "Make it a hundred andtwenty-five, an' I'll go ye."
Mr. Ellsworth counted out some bills.
"Here's a hundred," he said. "That ought to be about right."
"Fifteen more," insisted Uncle Billy.
With a little frown of impatience the other counted off the extramoney and handed it over. Uncle Billy gravely handed it back.
"Them's the fifteen dollars Mr. Kamp give me," he explained. "You'vegot the hull house fer a week, an' o' course all th' money that'stooken in is your'n. You kin do as ye please about rentin' out roomsto other folks, I reckon. A bargain's a bargain, an' I allus stick toone I make."

V
Ralph Ellsworth stalked among the trees, feverishly searching forsquirrels, scarlet leaves, and the glint of a brown walking-dress,this last not being so easy to locate in sunlit autumn woods. Timeafter time he quickened his pace, only to find that he had been fooledby a patch of dogwood, a clump of haw bushes or even a leaf-strewnknoll, but at last he unmistakably saw the dress, and then he sloweddown to a careless saunter.
She was reaching up for some brilliantly colored maple leaves, and wasentirely unconscious of his presence, especially after she had seenhim. Her pose showed her pretty figure to advantage, but, of course,she did not know that. How should she?
Ralph admired the picture very much. The hat, the hair, the gown, thedainty shoes, even the narrow strip of silken hose that was revealedas she stood a-uptoe, were all of a deep, rich brown that proved anexquisite foil for the pink and cream of her cheeks. He rememberedthat her eyes were almost the same shade, and wondered how it was thatwomen-folk happened on combinations in dress that so well set offtheir natural charms. The fool!
He was about three trees away, now, and a panic akin to that whichhunters describe as "buck ague" seized him. He decided that he reallyhad no excuse for coming any nearer. It would not do, either, to beseen staring at her if she should happen to turn her head, so heveered off, intending to regain the road. It would be impossible to dothis without passing directly in her range of vision, and he did notintend to try to avoid it. He had a fine, manly figure of his own.
He had just passed the nearest radius to her circle and was proceedingalong the tangent that he had laid out for himself, when the unwittingmaid looked carefully down and saw a tangle of roots at her very feet.She was so unfortunate, a second later, as to slip her foot in thisvery tangle and give her ankle ever so slight a twist.
"Oh!" cried Miss Van Kamp, and Ralph Ellsworth flew to the rescue. Hehad not been noticing her at all, and yet he had started to her sidebefore she had even cried out, which was strange. She had a veryattractive voice.
"May I be of assistance?" he anxiously inquired.
"I think not, thank you," she replied, compressing her lips to keepback the intolerable pain, and half-closing her eyes to show the finelashes. Declining the proffered help, she extricated her foot, pickedup her autumn branches, and turned away. She was intensely averse toanything that could be construed as a flirtation, even of the mildest,he could certainly see that. She took a step, swayed slightly, droppedthe leaves, and clutched out her hand to him.
"It is nothing," she assured him in a moment, withdrawing the handafter he had held it quite long enough. "Nothing whatever. I gave myfoot a slight wrench, and turned the least bit faint for a moment."
"You must permit me to walk back, at least to the road, with you," heinsisted, gathering up her armload of branches. "I couldn't think ofleaving you here alone."
As he stooped to raise the gay woodland treasures he smiled tohimself, ever so slightly. This was not _his_ first season out,either.
"Delightful spot, isn't it?" he observed as they regained the road andsauntered in the direction of the Tutt House.
"Quite so," she reservedly answered. She had noticed that smile as hestooped. He must be snubbed a little. It would be so good for him.
"You don't happen to know Billy Evans, of Boston, do you?" he asked.
"I think not. I am but very little acquainted in Boston."
"Too bad," he went on. "I was rather in hopes you knew Billy. Allsorts of a splendid fellow, and knows everybody."
"Not quite, it seems," she reminded him, and he winced at the error.In spite of the sly smile that he had permitted to himself, he wasunusually interested.
He tried the weather, the flood, the accident, golf, books and threegood, substantial, warranted jokes, but the conversation lagged inspite of him. Miss Van Kamp would not for the world have it understoodthat this unconventional meeting, made allowable by her wrenchedankle, could possibly fulfill the functions of a formal introduction.
"What a ripping, queer old building that is!" he exclaimed, making onemore brave effort as they came in sight of the hotel.
"It is, rather," she assented. "The rooms in it are as quaint anddelightful as the exterior, too."
She looked as harmless and innocent as a basket of peaches as she saidit, and never the suspicion of a smile deepened the dimple in thecheek toward him. The smile was glowing cheerfully away inside,though. He could feel it, if he could not see it, and he laughedaloud.
"Your crowd rather got the better of us there," he admitted with thekeen appreciation of one still quite close to college days.
"Of course, the mater is furious, but I rather look on it as a lark."
She thawed like an April icicle.
"It's perfectly jolly," she laughed with him. "Awfully selfish of us,too, I know, but such loads of fun."
They were close to the Tutt House now, and her limp, that had entirelydisappeared as they emerged from the woods, now became quiteperceptible. There might be people looking out of the windows, thoughit is hard to see why that should affect a limp.
Ralph was delighted to find that a thaw had set in, and he made onemore attempt to establish at least a proxy acquaintance.
"You don't happen to know Peyson Kingsley, of Philadelphia, do you?"
"I'm afraid I don't," she replied. "I know so few Philadelphia people,you see." She was rather regretful about it this time. He really was aclever sort of a fellow, in spite of that smile.
The center window in the second floor of the Tutt House swung open,its little squares of glass flashing jubilantly in the sunlight. Mrs.Ellsworth leaned out over the sill, from the quaint old sitting-roomof the _Van Kamp apartments_!
"Oh, Ralph!" she called in her most dulcet tones. "Kindly excuseyourself and come right on up to our suite for a few moments!"

VI
It is not nearly so easy to take a practical joke as to perpetrateone. Evelyn was sitting thoughtfully on the porch when her father andmother returned. Mrs. Ellsworth was sitting at the center windowabove, placidly looking out. Her eyes swept carelessly over the VanKamps, and unconcernedly passed on to the rest of the landscape.
Mrs. Van Kamp gasped and clutched the arm of her husband. There was noneed. He, too, had seen the apparition. Evelyn now, for the firsttime, saw the real humor of the situation. She smiled as she thoughtof Ralph. She owed him one, but she never worried about her debts. Shealways managed to get them paid, principal and interest.
Mr. Van Kamp suddenly glowered and strode into the Tutt House. UncleBilly met him at the door, reflectively chewing a straw, and handedhim an envelope. Mr. Van Kamp tore it open and drew out a note. Threefive-dollar bills came out with it and fluttered to the porch floor.This missive confronted him:
MR. J. BELMONT VAN KAMP,
DEAR SIR: This is to notify you that I have rented the entire TuttHouse for the ensuing week, and am compelled to assume possession ofthe three second-floor front rooms. Herewith I am enclosing thefifteen dollars you paid to secure the suite. You are quite welcome tomake use, as my guest, of the small room over the kitchen. You willfind your luggage in that room. Regretting any inconvenience that thistransaction may cause you, I am,
Yours respectfully,EDWARD EASTMAN ELLSWORTH.
Mr. Van Kamp passed the note to his wife and sat down or a largechair. He was glad that the chair was comfortable and roomy. Evelynpicked up the bills and tucked them into her waist. She neveroverlooked any of her perquisites. Mrs. Van Kamp read the note, andthe tip of her nose became white. She also sat down, but she was thefirst to find her voice.
"Atrocious!" she exclaimed. "Atrocious! Simply atrocious, Belmont.This is a house of public entertainment. They _can't_ turn us out inthis high-minded manner! Isn't there a law or something to thateffect?"
"It wouldn't matter if there was," he thoughtfully replied. "Thisfellow Ellsworth would be too clever to be caught by it. He would saythat the house was not a hotel but a private residence during theperiod for which he has rented it."
Personally, he rather admired Ellsworth. Seemed to be a resourcefulsort of chap who knew how to make money behave itself, and do itslittle tricks without balking in the harness.
"Then you can make him take down the sign!" his wife declared.
He shook his head decidedly.
"It wouldn't do, Belle," he replied. "It would be spite, notretaliation, and not at all sportsmanlike. The course you suggestwould belittle us more than it would annoy them. There must be someother way."
He went in to talk with Uncle Billy.
"I want to buy this place," he stated. "Is it for sale?"
"It sartin is!" replied Uncle Billy. He did not merely twinkle thistime. He grinned.
"How much?"
"Three thousand dollars." Mr. Tutt was used to charging by this time,and he betrayed no hesitation.
"I'll write you out a check at once," and Mr. Van Kamp reached in hispocket with the reflection that the spot, after all, was an ideal onefor a quiet summer retreat.
"Air you a-goin' t' scribble that there three thou-san' on a piece o'paper?" inquired Uncle Billy, sitting bolt upright. "Ef you aira-figgerin' on that, Mr. Kamp, jis' you save yore time. I give a manfour dollars fer one o' them check things oncet, an' I owe myself themfour dollars yit."
Mr. Van Kamp retired in disorder, but the thought of his wife anddaughter waiting confidently on the porch stopped him. Moreover, thething had resolved itself rather into a contest between Ellsworth andhimself, and he had done a little making and breaking of men andthings in his own time. He did some gatling-gun thinking out by thenewel-post, and presently rejoined Uncle Billy.
"Mr. Tutt, tell me just exactly what Mr. Ellsworth rented, please," herequested.
"Th' hull house," replied Billy, and then he somewhat sternly added:"Paid me spot cash fer it, too."
Mr. Van Kamp took a wad of loose bills from his trousers pocket,straightened them out leisurely, and placed them in his bill book,along with some smooth yellowbacks of eye-bulging denominations. UncleBilly sat up and stopped twiddling his thumbs.
"Nothing was said about the furniture, was there?" suavely inquiredVan Kamp.
Uncle Billy leaned blankly back in his chair. Little by little thelight dawned on the ex-horse-trader. The crow's feet reappeared abouthis eyes, his mouth twitched, he smiled, he grinned, then he slappedhis thigh and haw-hawed.
"No!" roared Uncle Billy. "No, there wasn't, by gum!"
"Nothing but the house?"
"His very own words!" chuckled Uncle Billy. "'Jis' th' mere house,'says he, an' he gits it. A bargain's a bargain, an' I allus stick toone I make."
"How much for the furniture for the week?"
"Fifty dollars!" Mr. Tutt knew how to do business with this kind ofpeople now, you bet.
Mr. Van Kamp promptly counted out the money.
"Drat it!" commented Uncle Billy to himself. "I could 'a' got more!"
"Now where can we make ourselves comfortable with this furniture?"
Uncle Billy chirked up. All was not yet lost.
"Waal," he reflectively drawled, "there's th' new barn. It hain't beenused for nothin' yit, senct I built it two years ago. I jis' hadn'tth' heart t' put th' critters in it as long as th' ole one stood up."
The other smiled at this flashlight on Uncle Billy's character, andthey went out to look at the barn.

VII
Uncle Billy came back from the "Tutt House Annex," as Mr. Van Kampdubbed the barn, with enough more money to make him love all the worlduntil he got used to having it. Uncle Billy belongs to a large family.
Mr. Van Kamp joined the women on the porch, and explained theattractively novel situation to them. They were chatting gaily whenthe Ellsworths came down the stairs. Mr. Ellsworth paused for a momentto exchange a word with Uncle Billy.
"Mr. Tutt," said he, laughing, "if we go for a bit of exercise willyou guarantee us the possession of our rooms when we come back?"
"Yes sir-ree!" Uncle Billy assured him. "They shan't nobody take themrooms away from you fer money, marbles, ner chalk. A bargain's abargain, an' I allus stick to one I make," and he virtuously took achew of tobacco while he inspected the afternoon sky with a clearconscience.
"I want to get some of those splendid autumn leaves to decorate ourcozy apartments," Mrs. Ellsworth told her husband as they passed inhearing of the Van Kamps. "Do you know those oldtime rag rugs are themost oddly decorative effects that I have ever seen. They are so richin color and so exquisitely blended."
There were reasons why this poisoned arrow failed to rankle, but theVan Kamps did not trouble to explain. They were waiting for Ralph tocome out and join his parents. Ralph, it seemed, however, had decidednot to take a walk. He had already fatigued himself, he had explained,and his mother had favored him with a significant look. She couldreadily believe him, she had assured him, and had then left him inscorn.
The Van Kamps went out to consider the arrangement of the barn. Evelynreturned first and came out on the porch to find a handkerchief. Itwas not there, but Ralph was. She was very much surprised to see him,and she intimated as much.
"It's dreadfully damp in the woods," he explained. "By the way, youdon't happen to know the Whitleys, of Washington, do you? Mostexcellent people."
"I'm quite sorry that I do not," she replied. "But you will have toexcuse me. We shall be kept very busy with arranging our apartments."
Ralph sprang to his feet with a ludicrous expression.
"Not the second floor front suite!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, no! Not at all," she reassured him.
He laughed lightly.
"Honors are about even in that game," he said.
"Evelyn," called her mother from the hall. "Please come and take thosefront suite curtains down to the barn."
"Pardon me while we take the next trick," remarked Evelyn with a laughquite as light and gleeful as his own, and disappeared into the hall.
He followed her slowly, and was met at the door by her father.
"You are the younger Mr. Ellsworth, I believe," politely said Mr. VanKamp.
"Ralph Ellsworth. Yes, sir."
"Here is a note for your father. It is unsealed. You are quite atliberty to read it."
Mr. Van Kamp bowed himself away, and Ralph opened the note, whichread:
EDWARD EASTMAN ELLSWORTH, ESQ.,
Dear Sir: This is to notify you that I have rented the entirefurniture of the Tutt House for the ensuing week, and am compelled toassume possession of that in the three second floor front rooms, aswell as all the balance not in actual use by Mr. and Mrs. Tutt and thedriver of the stage. You are quite welcome, however, to make use ofthe furnishings in the small room over the kitchen. Your luggage youwill find undisturbed. Regretting any inconvenience that thistransaction may cause you, I remain,
Yours respectfully,
J. BELMONT VAN KAMP.
Ralph scratched his head in amused perplexity. It devolved upon him toeven up the affair a little before his mother came back. He mustsupport the family reputation for resourcefulness, but it took quite abit of scalp irritation before he aggravated the right idea intobeing. As soon as the idea came, he went in and made a hide-boundbargain with Uncle Billy, then he went out into the hall and waiteduntil Evelyn came down with a huge armload of window curtains.
"Honors are still even," he remarked. "I have just bought all theedibles about the place, whether in the cellar, the house or any ofthe surrounding structures, in the ground, above the ground, dead oralive, and a bargain's a bargain as between man and man."
"Clever of you, I'm sure," commented Miss Van Kamp, reflectively.Suddenly her lips parted with a smile that revealed a double row ofmost beautiful teeth. He meditatively watched the curve of her lips.
"Isn't that rather a heavy load?" he suggested. "I'd be delighted tohelp you move the things, don't you know."
"It is quite kind of you, and what the men would call 'game,' Ibelieve, under the circumstances," she answered, "but really it willnot be necessary. We have hired Mr. Tutt and the driver to do theheavier part of the work, and the rest of it will be really a pleasantdiversion."
"No doubt," agreed Ralph, with an appreciative grin. "By the way, youdon't happen to know Maud and Dorothy Partridge, of Baltimore, do you?Stunning pretty girls, both of them, and no end of swells."
"I know so very few people in Baltimore," she murmured, and tripped ondown to the barn.
Ralph went out on the porch and smoked. There was nothing else that hecould do.

VIII
It was growing dusk when the elder Ellsworths returned, almost hiddenby great masses of autumn boughs.
"You should have been with us, Ralph," enthusiastically said hismother. "I never saw such gorgeous tints in all my life. We havebrought nearly the entire woods with us."
"It was a good idea," said Ralph. "A stunning good idea. They may comein handy to sleep on."
Mrs. Ellsworth turned cold.
"What do you mean?" she gasped.
"Ralph," sternly demanded his father, "you don't mean to tell us thatyou let the Van Kamps jockey us out of those rooms after all?"
"Indeed, no," he airily responded. "Just come right on up and see."
He led the way into the suite and struck a match. One solitary candlehad been left upon the mantel shelf. Ralph thought that this had beenoverlooked, but his mother afterwards set him right about that. Mrs.Van Kamp had cleverly left it so that the Ellsworths could see howdreadfully bare the place was. One candle in three rooms is drearierthan darkness anyhow.
Mrs. Ellsworth took in all the desolation, the dismal expanse of thenow enormous apartments, the shabby walls, the hideous bright spotswhere pictures had hung, the splintered flooring, the great, gauntwindows--and she gave in. She had met with snub after snub, and cutafter cut, in her social climb, she had had the cook quit in themiddle of an important dinner, she had had every disconcerting thingpossible happen to her, but this--this was the last _bale_ of straw.She sat down on a suitcase, in the middle of the biggest room, andcried!
Ralph, having waited for this, now told about the food transaction,and she hastily pushed the last-coming tear back into her eye.
"Good!" she cried. "They will be up here soon. They will be compelledto compromise, and they must not find me with red eyes."
She cast a hasty glance around the room, then, in a sudden panic,seized the candle and explored the other two. She went wildly out intothe hall, back into the little room over the kitchen, downstairs,everywhere, and returned in consternation.
"There's not a single mirror left in the house!" she moaned.
Ralph heartlessly grinned. He could appreciate that this was acharacteristic woman trick, and wondered admiringly whether Evelyn orher mother had thought of it. However, this was a time for action.
"I'll get you some water to bathe your eyes," he offered, and ran intothe little room over the kitchen to get a pitcher. A crackedshaving-mug was the only vessel that had been left, but he hurrieddown into the yard with it. This was no time for fastidiousness.
He had barely creaked the pump handle when Mr. Van Kamp hurried upfrom the barn.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Mr. Van Kamp, "but this water belongsto us. My daughter bought it, all that is in the ground, above theground, or that may fall from the sky upon these premises."

IX
The mutual siege lasted until after seven o'clock, but it was ratherone-sided. The Van Kamps could drink all the water they liked, it madethem no hungrier. If the Ellsworths ate anything, however, they grewthirstier, and, moreover, water was necessary if anything worth whilewas to be cooked. They knew all this, and resisted until Mrs.Ellsworth was tempted and fell. She ate a sandwich and choked. It washeartbreaking, but Ralph had to be sent down with a plate ofsandwiches and an offer to trade them for water.
Halfway between the pump and the house he met Evelyn coming with asmall pail of the precious fluid. They both stopped stock still; then,seeing that it was too late to retreat, both laughed and advanced.
"Who wins now?" bantered Ralph as they made the exchange.
"It looks to me like a misdeal," she gaily replied, and was movingaway when he called her back.
"You don't happen to know the Gately's, of New York, do you?" he wasquite anxious to know.
"I am truly sorry, but I am acquainted with so few people in New York.We are from Chicago, you know."
"Oh," said he blankly, and took the water up to the Ellsworth suite.
Mrs. Ellsworth cheered up considerably when she heard that Ralph hadbeen met halfway, but her eyes snapped when he confessed that it wasMiss Van Kamp who had met him.
"I hope you are not going to carry on a flirtation with thatoverdressed creature," she blazed.
"Why mother," exclaimed Ralph, shocked beyond measure. "What righthave you to accuse either this young lady or myself of flirting?Flirting!"
Mrs. Ellsworth suddenly attacked the fire with quite unnecessaryenergy.

X
Down at the barn, the wide threshing floor had been covered with gayrag-rugs, and strewn with tables, couches, and chairs in picturesqueprofusion. Roomy box-stalls had been carpeted deep with clean straw,curtained off with gaudy bed-quilts, and converted into cozy sleepingapartments. The mow and the stalls had been screened off with lacecurtains and blazing counterpanes, and the whole effect was one ofOriental luxury and splendor. Alas, it was only an "effect"! Thered-hot parlor stove smoked abominably, the pipe carried other smokeout through the hawmow window, only to let it blow back again. Chillcross-draughts whistled in from cracks too numerous to be stopped up,and the miserable Van Kamps could only cough and shiver, and envy theTutts and the driver, non-combatants who had been fed two hoursbefore.
Up in the second floor suite there was a roaring fire in the bigfireplace, but there was a chill in the room that no mere fire coulddrive away--the chill of absolute emptiness.
A man can outlive hardships that would kill a woman, but a woman canendure discomforts that would drive a man crazy.
Mr. Ellsworth went out to hunt up Uncle Billy, with an especial solacein mind. The landlord was not in the house, but the yellow gleam of alantern revealed his presence in the woodshed, and Mr. Ellsworthstepped in upon him just as he was pouring something yellow and clearinto a tumbler from a big jug that he had just taken from under theflooring.
"How much do you want for that jug and its contents?" he asked, with asigh of gratitude that this supply had been overlooked.
Before Mr. Tutt could answer, Mr. Van Kamp hurried in at the door.
"Wait a moment!" he cried. "I want to bid on that!"
"This here jug hain't fer sale at no price," Uncle Billy emphaticallyannounced, nipping all negotiations right in the bud. "It's too peskyhard to sneak this here licker in past Marge't, but I reckon it's mytreat, gents. Ye kin have all ye want."
One minute later Mr. Van Kamp and Mr. Ellsworth were seated, one on asawbuck and the other on a nail-keg, comfortably eyeing each otheracross the work bench, and each was holding up a tumbler one-thirdfilled with the golden yellow liquid.
"Your health, sir," courteously proposed Mr. Ellsworth.
"And to you, sir," gravely replied Mr. Van Kamp.

XI
Ralph and Evelyn happened to meet at the pump, quite accidentally,after the former had made half a dozen five-minute-apart trips for adrink. It was Miss Van Kamp, this time, who had been studying on themutual acquaintance problem.
"You don't happen to know the Tylers, of Parkersburg, do you?" sheasked.
"The Tylers! I should say I do!" was the unexpected and enthusiasticreply. "Why, we are on our way now to Miss Georgiana Tyler's weddingto my friend Jimmy Carston. I'm to be best man."
"How delightful!" she exclaimed. "We are on the way there, too.Georgiana was my dearest chum at school, and I am to be her 'bestgirl.'"
"Let's go around on the porch and sit down," said Ralph.
XII
Mr. Van Kamp, back in the woodshed, looked about him with an eye ofcontent.
"Rather cozy for a woodshed," he observed. "I wonder if we couldn'tscare up a little session of dollar limit?"
Both Uncle Billy and Mr. Ellsworth were willing. Death and poker levelall Americans. A fourth hand was needed, however. The stage driver wasin bed and asleep, and Mr. Ellsworth volunteered to find the extraplayer.
"I'll get Ralph," he said. "He plays a fairly stiff game." He finallyfound his son on the porch, apparently alone, and stated his errand.
"Thank you, but I don't believe I care to play this evening," was theastounding reply, and Mr. Ellsworth looked closer. He made out, then,a dim figure on the other side of Ralph.
"Oh! Of course not!" he blundered, and went back to the woodshed.
Three-handed poker is a miserable game, and it seldom lasts long. Itdid not in this case. After Uncle Billy had won the only jack-potdeserving of the name, he was allowed to go blissfully to sleep withhis hand on the handle of the big jug.
After poker there is only one other always available amusement formen, and that is business. The two travelers were quite wellacquainted when Ralph put his head in at the door.
"Thought I'd find you here," he explained. "It just occurred to me towonder whether you gentlemen had discovered, as yet, that we are allto be house guests at the Carston-Tyler wedding."
"Why, no!" exclaimed his father in pleased surprise. "It is a mostagreeable coincidence. Mr. Van Kamp, allow me to introduce my son,Ralph. Mr. Van Kamp and myself, Ralph, have found out that we shall beconsiderably thrown together in a business way from now on. He hasjust purchased control of the Metropolitan and Western string ofinterurbans."
"Delighted, I'm sure," murmured Ralph, shaking hands, and then heslipped out as quickly as possible. Some one seemed to be waiting forhim.
Perhaps another twenty minutes had passed, when one of the men had anilluminating idea that resulted, later on, in pleasant relations forall of them. It was about time, for Mrs. Ellsworth, up in the baresuite, and Mrs. Van Kamp, down in the draughty barn, both wrapped upto the chin and both still chilly, had about reached the limit ofpatience and endurance.
"Why can't we make things a little more comfortable for allconcerned?" suggested Mr. Van Kamp. "Suppose, as a starter, that wehave Mrs. Van Kamp give a shiver party down in the barn?"
"Good idea," agreed Mr. Ellsworth. "A little diplomacy will do it.Each one of us will have to tell his wife that the other fellow madethe first abject overtures."
Mr. Van Kamp grinned understandingly, and agreed to the infamous ruse.
"By the way," continued Mr. Ellsworth, with a still happier thought,"you must allow Mrs. Ellsworth to furnish the dinner for Mrs. VanKamp's shiver party."
"Dinner!" gasped Mr. Van Kamp. "By all means!"
Both men felt an anxious yawning in the region of the appetite, and ayearning moisture wetted their tongues. They looked at the slumberingUncle Billy and decided to see Mrs. Tutt themselves about a good, hotdinner for six.
"Law me!" exclaimed Aunt Margaret when they appeared at the kitchendoor. "I swan I thought you folks 'u'd never come to yore senses. HereI've had a big pot o' stewed chicken ready on the stove fer two mortalhours. I kin give ye that, an' smashed taters an' chicken gravy, an'dried corn, an' hot corn-pone, an' currant jell, an' strawberrypreserves, an' my own cannin' o' peaches, an' pumpkin-pie an' coffee.Will that do ye?" Would it _do_! _Would_ it do!!
As Aunt Margaret talked, the kitchen door swung wide, and the two menwere stricken speechless with astonishment. There, across from eachother at the kitchen table, sat the utterly selfish and traitorousyounger members of the rival houses of Ellsworth and Van Kamp, deep inthe joys of chicken, and mashed potatoes, and gravy, and hotcorn-pone, and all the other "fixings," laughing and chatting gailylike chums of years' standing. They had seemingly just come to anagreement about something or other, for Evelyn, waving the shorter endof a broken wishbone, was vivaciously saying to Ralph:
"A bargain's a bargain, and I always stick to one I make."