The Colonel's Dream Page 31

  _Thirty-one_

  On the day following these events, the colonel, on the arm of oldPeter, hobbled out upon his front porch, and seating himself in a bigrocking chair, in front of which a cushion had been adjusted for hisinjured ankle, composed himself to read some arrears of mail which hadcome in the day before, and over which he had only glanced casually.When he was comfortably settled, Peter and Phil walked down the steps,upon the lowest of which they seated themselves. The colonel hadscarcely begun to read before he called to the old man.

  "Peter," he said, "I wish you'd go upstairs, and look in my room, andbring me a couple of light-coloured cigars from the box on mybureau--the mild ones, you know, Peter."

  "Yas, suh, I knows, suh, de mil' ones, dem wid de gol' ban's 'roun''em. Now you stay right hyuh, chile, till Peter come back."

  Peter came up the steps and disappeared in the doorway.

  The colonel opened a letter from Kirby, in which that energetic andversatile gentleman assured the colonel that he had evolved a greatscheme, in which there were millions for those who would go into it.He had already interested Mrs. Jerviss, who had stated she would begoverned by what the colonel did in the matter. The letter went intosome detail upon this subject, and then drifted off into club andsocial gossip. Several of the colonel's friends had inquiredparticularly about him. One had regretted the loss to their whisttable. Another wanted the refusal of his box at the opera, if he werenot coming back for the winter.

  "I think you're missed in a certain quarter, old fellow. I know a ladywho would be more than delighted to see you. I am invited to her houseto dinner, ostensibly to talk about our scheme, in reality to talkabout you.

  "But this is all by the way. The business is the thing. Take myproposition under advisement. We all made money together before; wecan make it again. My option has ten days to run. Wire me before it isup what reply to make. I know what you'll say, but I want your 'ipsedixit.'"

  The colonel knew too what his reply would be, and that it would bevery different from Kirby's anticipation. He would write it, hethought, next day, so that Kirby should not be kept in suspense, or sothat he might have time to enlist other capital in the enterprise. Thecolonel felt really sorry to disappoint his good friends. He wouldwrite and inform Kirby of his plans, including that of his approachingmarriage.

  He had folded the letter and laid it down, and had picked up anewspaper, when Peter returned with the cigars and a box of matches.

  "Mars Henry?" he asked, "w'at's gone wid de chile?"

  "Phil?" replied the colonel, looking toward the step, from which theboy had disappeared. "I suppose he went round the house."

  "Mars Phil! O Mars Phil!" called the old man.

  There was no reply.

  Peter looked round the corner of the house, but Phil was nowherevisible. The old man went round to the back yard, and called again,but did not find the child.

  "I hyuhs de train comin'; I 'spec's he's gone up ter de railroadtrack," he said, when he had returned to the front of the house. "I'llrun up dere an' fetch 'im back."

  "Yes, do, Peter," returned the colonel. "He's probably all right, butyou'd better see about him."

  Little Phil, seeing his father absorbed in the newspaper, and notwishing to disturb him, had amused himself by going to the gate andlooking down the street toward the railroad track. He had been doingthis scarcely a moment, when he saw a black cat come out of aneighbour's gate and go down the street.

  Phil instantly recalled Uncle Peter's story of the black cat. Perhapsthis was the same one!

  Phil had often been warned about the railroad.

  "Keep 'way f'm dat railroad track, honey," the old man had repeatedmore than once. "It's as dange'ous as a gun, and a gun is dange'ouswidout lock, stock, er bairl: I knowed a man oncet w'at beat 'is wifeter def wid a ramrod, an' wuz hung fer it in a' ole fiel' down by deha'nted house. Dat gun couldn't hol' powder ner shot, but wasdange'ous 'nuff ter kill two folks. So you jes' better keep 'way f'mdat railroad track, chile."

  But Phil was a child, with the making of a man, and the wisest of mensometimes forget. For the moment Phil saw nothing but the cat, andwished for nothing more than to talk to it.

  So Phil, unperceived by the colonel, set out to overtake the blackcat. The cat seemed in no hurry, and Phil had very nearly caught upwith him--or her, as the case might be--when the black cat, havingreached the railroad siding, walked under a flat car which stoodthere, and leaping to one of the truck bars, composed itself,presumably for a nap. In order to get close enough to the cat forconversational purposes, Phil stooped under the overhanging end of thecar, and kneeled down beside the truck.

  "Kitty, Kitty!" he called, invitingly.

  The black cat opened her big yellow eyes with every evidence of lazyamiability.

  Peter shuffled toward the corner as fast as his rickety old limbswould carry him. When he reached the corner he saw a car standing onthe track. There was a brakeman at one end, holding a coupling link inone hand, and a coupling pin in the other, his eye on an engine andtrain of cars only a rod or two away, advancing to pick up the singlecar. At the same moment Peter caught sight of little Phil, kneelingunder the car at the other end.

  Peter shouted, but the brakeman was absorbed in his own task, whichrequired close attention in order to assure his own safety. Theengineer on the cab, at the other end of the train, saw an old Negroexcitedly gesticulating, and pulled a lever mechanically, but too lateto stop the momentum of the train, which was not equipped with airbrakes, even if these would have proved effective to stop it in soshort a distance.

  Just before the two cars came together, Peter threw himself forward toseize the child. As he did so, the cat sprang from the truck bar; theold man stumbled over the cat, and fell across the rail. The car movedonly a few feet, but quite far enough to work injury.

  A dozen people, including the train crew, quickly gathered. Willinghands drew them out and laid them upon the grass under the spreadingelm at the corner of the street. A judge, a merchant and a Negrolabourer lifted old Peter's body as tenderly as though it had beenthat of a beautiful woman. The colonel, somewhat uneasy, he scarcelyknew why, had started to limp painfully toward the corner, when he wasmet by a messenger who informed him of the accident. Forgetting hispain, he hurried to the scene, only to find his heart's delight lyingpale, bleeding and unconscious, beside the old Negro who hadsacrificed his life to save him.

  A doctor, who had been hastily summoned, pronounced Peter dead. Philshowed no superficial injury, save a cut upon the head, from which thebleeding was soon stanched. A Negro's strong arms bore the child tothe house, while the bystanders remained about Peter's body until thearrival of Major McLean, recently elected coroner, who had beenpromptly notified of the accident. Within a few minutes after theofficer's appearance, a jury was summoned from among the bystanders,the evidence of the trainmen and several other witnesses was taken,and a verdict of accidental death rendered. There was no suggestion ofblame attaching to any one; it had been an accident, pure and simple,which ordinary and reasonable prudence could not have foreseen.

  By the colonel's command, the body of his old servant was thenconveyed to the house and laid out in the front parlour. Every honour,every token of respect, should be paid to his remains.