"Eh?...Oh, yes, sartin, I guess so.""All right.Here is one.I picked it up on top of that little hill.I guess it blew there.It's blowing ever so much harder up there than it is here on the beach."The shingle boat being hurriedly made, its owner begged for a paper sail."The other one you made me had a paper sail, Uncle Jed."Jed pleaded that he had no paper."There's some wrapped 'round the lunch," he said, "but it's all butter and such.'Twouldn't be any good for a sail.Er--er--don't you think we'd better put off makin' the sail till we get home or--or somewheres? This chowder is sort of on my conscience this minute."Babbie evidently did not think so.She went away on an exploring expedition.In a few minutes she returned, a sheet of paper in her hand.
"It was blowing around just where I found the shingle," she declared."It's a real nice place to find things, up on that hill place, Uncle Jed."Jed took the paper, looked at it absently--he had taken off his coat during the fire-building and his glasses were presumably in the coat pocket--and then hastily doubled it across, thrust the mast of the "shingle boat" through it at top and bottom, and handed the craft to his small companion.
"There!" he observed; "there she is, launched, rigged and all but christened.Call her the--the 'Geranium'--the 'Sunflower'--what's the name of that doll baby of yours? Oh, yes, the 'Petunia.' Call her that and set her afloat."But Barbara shook her head.
"I think," she said, "if you don't mind, Uncle Jed, I shall call this one 'Ruth,' that's Mamma's name, you know.The other one you made me was named for Petunia, and we wouldn't want to name 'em ALLfor her.It might make her too--too-- Oh, what ARE those things you make, Uncle Jed? In the shop, I mean.""Eh? Windmills?"
"No.The others--those you tell the wind with.I know--vanes.It might make Petunia too vain.That's what Mamma said I mustn't be when I had my new coat, the one with the fur, you know."She trotted off.Jed busied himself with the chowder.A few minutes later a voice behind him said: "Hi, there!" He turned to see a broad-shouldered stranger, evidently a carpenter or workman of some sort, standing at the top of the sand dune and looking down at him with marked interest.
"Hi, there!" repeated the stranger.
Jed nodded; his attention was centered on the chowder."How d'ye do?" he observed, politely."Nice day, ain't it?...Hum....
About five minutes more."
The workman strode down the bank.
"Say," he demanded, "have you seen anything of a plan?""Eh?...Hum....Two plates and two spoons...and two tumblers....""Hey! Wake up! Have you seen anything of a plan, I ask you?""Eh?...A plan?...No, I guess not....No, I ain't....
What is it?"
"What IS it? How do you know you ain't seen it if you don't know what it is?""Eh?...I don't, I guess likely."
"Say, you're a queer duck, it strikes me.What are you up to?
What are you doin' here, anyway?"
Jed took the cover from the kettle and stirred the fragrant, bubbling mass with a long-handled spoon.
"About done," he mused, slowly."Just...about...done.
Give her two minutes more for luck and then...."But his visitor was becoming impatient."Are you deaf or are you tryin' to get my goat?" he demanded."Because if you are you're pretty close to doin' it, I'll tell you that.You answer when Ispeak to you; understand? What are you doin' here?"His tone was so loud and emphatic that even Mr.Winslow could not help but hear and understand.He looked up, vaguely troubled.
"I--I hope you'll excuse me, Mister," he stammered."I'm afraid Ihaven't been payin' attention the way I'd ought to.You see, I'm makin' a chowder here and it's just about got to the place where you can't--""Look here, you," began his questioner, but he was interrupted in his turn.Over the edge of the bank came a young man in the khaki uniform of the United States Army.He was an officer, a second lieutenant, and a very young and very new second lieutenant at that.His face was white and he seemed much agitated.
"What's the matter here?" he demanded.Then, seeing Jed for the first time, he asked: "Who is this man and what is he doing here?""That's just what I was askin' him, sir," blustered the workman.
"I found him here with this fire goin' and I asked him who he was and what he was doin'.I asked him first if he'd seen the plan--""Had he?" broke in the young officer, eagerly.Then, addressing Jed, he said: "Have you seen anything of the plan?"Jed slowly shook his head."I don't know's I know what you mean by a plan," he explained."I ain't been here very long.I just-- My soul and body!"He snatched the kettle from the fire, took off the cover, sniffed anxiously, and then added, with a sigh of relief, "Whew! I declare I thought I smelt it burnin'.Saved it just in time.Whew!"The lieutenant looked at Jed and then at the workman.The latter shook his head.
"Don't ask me, sir," he said."That's the way he's been actin'
ever since I struck here.Either he's batty or else he's pretendin' to be, one or the other.Look here, Rube!" he roared at the top of his lungs, "can the cheap talk and answer the lieutenant's questions or you'll get into trouble.D'ye hear?"Jed looked up at him."I'm pretty nigh sure I should hear if you whispered a little louder," he said, gently.
The young officer drew himself up."That's enough of this," he ordered."A plan has been lost here on this reservation, a valuable plan, a drawing of--well, a drawing that has to do with the laying out of this camp and which might be of value to the enemy if he could get it.It was on my table in the office less than an hour ago.Now it is missing.What we are asking you is whether or not you have seen anything of it.Have you?"Jed shook his head."I don't think I have," he replied.
"You don't think? Don't you know? What is the matter with you?
Is it impossible for you to answer yes or no to a question?""Um--why, yes, I cal'late 'tis--to some questions.""Well, by George! You're fresh enough."
