Hiram Alfred H.A. Cody - The Touch of Abner (Hiram Alfred Cody) (Literary Thoughts Edition)

"Ain't ye goin'?" Abner demanded.

"No."

"Ye ain't! Well, I guess ye'll change ye'r tune, me hearty, before I'm through with ye."

Suddenly raising the gun by the barrel with both hands, he drew it back over his left shoulder in a most threatening manner.

"Git," he roared, "or I'll knock out ye'r brains, providin' ye've got any."

"Go ahead, then," was the quiet reply.

"What! ain't ye afraid?" Abner asked.

"Afraid of what?"

"That I'll kill ye."

"H'm, I wish you would. It would save me from doing it myself. So hurry up."

Abner's eyes bulged with amazement, and he slowly lowered his gun.

"Say, ye'r not luney, are ye?" he queried.

"Do you think I am?"

"Well, there must be somethin' wrong with a chap who wants to be killed, that's all."

"So you're not going to knock out my brains after all?"

"Naw, I ain't no murderer."

"Too bad," and the surveyor gave a deep sigh. "It's very disappointing."

Abner was now completely bewildered, and he knew not what to do. For once in his life he was unable to make any reply. If the young man had shown the least sign of fear, or had even argued, it would have been different. But to see him so calm and unconcerned was what puzzled him. He was mad, and yet it did no good. The more excited he became, the cooler seemed the surveyor. What was he to do? He did not wish to leave the fellow and go back to the house, as that would be an acknowledgment of defeat.

Happening to glance away to the left, he was much relieved to see Jess walking across the field carrying a dish of wild strawberries she had just picked.

"Hi thar, Jess," he called. "Come here. I want ye."

At these words the surveyor turned his head. Seeing the girl approaching, he suddenly straightened himself up from his listless attitude, while an expression of interest dawned in his eyes.

Jess was certainly fair to look upon as she drew near to where the two men were standing. It was little wonder that the surveyor's heart suddenly thrilled, and his hand touched his hat. Her trim lithe figure was clad in a simple white dress, open at the throat. Her arms were bare to the elbows, and her fingers bore the crimson stains of the strawberries she had recently picked. Beneath her broad-rimmed hat tresses of wavy dark-brown hair drifted waywardly and temptingly over her sun-browned neck, cheeks and forehead. Her eyes expressed surprise as she glanced at the young man, then at her father, and finally at the grounded gun.

"What's the matter, daddy?" she enquired. "You look dangerous."

"An' I feel dangerous," Abner retorted. "But that's as fer as I kin git, blamed if it ain't."

"But what are you going to do with that gun?"

"Nuthin', 'cept tote it back to the house."

"What did you bring it here for, then?"

"To scare that," and Abner motioned toward the surveyor.

Jess looked at the young man and detected an expression of amusement in his eyes, although his face remained perfectly grave.

"What did you want to scare him for, daddy?"

"'Cause he's trespassin', that's why. He wants to steal our place."

"Steal our place!" Jess repeated in astonishment.

"Yes, that's jist it. He wants it fer a bunch of government grafters, an' when I threatened to shoot him or brain him he up an' says that he wants to be killed. Now, what de ye make of that?"

A new light of animation now beamed in Jess' eyes, and she advanced a step toward the surveyor. Here was a case which demanded her immediate attention, and she felt much elated.

"Why do you want to be killed?" she asked.

"Simply because there is no reason why I should live," was the reply.

"Oh, nonsense," and Jess stamped her right foot lightly upon the ground. "You should not utter such words. Why, a man is a coward who wants to die. It proves that he is afraid to live. Isn't that the truth?"

"Perhaps it is. But that's the way I feel, anyway."

"You are looking at things in a wrong light," Jess continued. "You need a new outlook on life, a strong, noble view. That is what will lift you out of the depths of despair. You should read 'Above the Clouds.' It is just the book you need, and I shall gladly let you have my copy."

"Give it to him, Jess," Abner encouraged. "Pile on the Social Service dope. That'll fix him, all right."

"You are too self-centred," Jess went on. "You should not let your thoughts dwell on your own troubles, but think of others and try to help them."

"Good advice, young man," Abner chuckled. "Fergit ye'r worries, like a lobster in bilin' water. Go on, Jess; ye'r doin' fine."

But Jess did not go on. A sudden embarrassment seized her, caused by the peculiar look she observed in the surveyor's eyes. It was an expression, so she thought, of mingled surprise and amusement. What must he be thinking of her? she asked herself. Her enthusiasm had carried her away. Never before had she spoken to a strange man in such a manner. A deep flush mantled her cheeks, and she glanced nervously around as if anxious to hurry away.

"Surely you're not going to leave," the young man remarked. "I am enjoying myself immensely."

"You are!" It was all Jess could say.

"Certainly. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for a long time. To be held up at the point of a gun; threatened to be brained, and then to listen to such words of wisdom all in one day is most unusual."

"Better'n a movie-show, skiddy-me-shins if it ain't," Abner growled.

For a few seconds there was a dead silence. Then the humor of the situation dawned upon Jess, and a sunny smile wreathed her face and her eyes danced with merriment. The surveyor's laugh, on the other hand, was like a pigmy explosion. He evidently had been controlling himself with the greatest effort, and this outburst was a welcome relief to his pent-up feelings. Jess, too, laughed heartily now, while Abner's face was twisted into a broad grin, as he thumped the stock of his gun several times upon the ground.

"Ho ho!" he roared. "This is a movin'-picture show, all right. Gun, villain, an' gal all here. Why, it beats the movies all holler."

Then he stepped up to the surveyor, and held out his hand.

"Say, young feller," he began, "put it thar. Ye'r all right, an' I guess ye kin go ahead with ye'r surveyin'. I do sartinly like the cut of ye'r jib. Drop around to the house some evenin' an' have a smoke."

"Not 'Above the Clouds,' but in them; is that it?" he asked, turning to Jess.

"Whichever you prefer," was the reply. "Or you may have both, if you wish," she added as an afterthought.

The surveyor watched the father and daughter as they left him and walked slowly across the field. He seemed to be in no hurry to go on with his work, but stood there until the two had disappeared within the house.

"And so that is the noted Abner Andrews, is it?" he mused. "And I was told that he wouldn't let me survey his gravel hill. I've won the bet, all right. He certainly is a queer cuss, and I thought at one time that I wouldn't leave this place alive. How in heaven's name does he happen to have a daughter like that? Good Lord, what a girl!"

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