Chicken Little Jane on the Big John - Part 32
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Part 32

The stone had been put there to stay and did not yield readily. Jane dug till she was tired, then Katy took a hand. Gertie had been posted as a sentinel where she could watch the road.

They strained and tugged, but the stone was obstinate. Jane was getting red in the face.

"The old hateful----I'll get it out or bust!"

"Perhaps I can help you, Chicken Little."

The girls glanced up in dismay. Sherm stood there grinning. He had come back across lots.

"What you trying to do, anyhow? Have your pets been getting out?"

There was nothing to do but take Sherm into their confidence.

"Please promise you won't tell, Sherm--they'd tease me to death if they know. But we're sick of those pigs. I never want to lay eyes on a pig again. So we thought we'd just loosen a stone so they could get into the corral with the others and Father'd think they'd dug out themselves.

n.o.body can ever pick 'em out from the others. They are every bit as big as old Whity's pigs and Father turned them in two weeks ago."

Sherm chuckled. "Mum's the word. Hand over the pick and we'll do such an artistic job that the porkers themselves will think they are responsible for the whole business. I don't blame you. That's not girl's work!"

The pigs rose to the occasion beautifully. The tiny opening called as loudly as a pile of corn. They continued the excavating so promptly and expeditiously that by the time Dr. Morton returned from town, every piglet had deserted its maternal ancestor and was joyously rooting for itself in the corral.

"I don't see how those pigs got out," said Dr. Morton disgustedly. "I thought that small pen was secure."

The girls listened attentively.

"They were there at four o'clock, I saw them," Sherm remarked.

"Oh, I suppose the heavy rain loosened the earth and it was easy rooting."

"Possibly," said Sherm.

The incident might have awakened more interest if the Doctor had not returned, bringing a fateful letter. The long-expected letter from Senator Pratt had come. He would be most happy to give Ernest the appointment immediately, if he thought he could pa.s.s the mental examinations. An extra examination was to be held on the 30th at Annapolis. He was sending a catalogue and some special literature as to the ground to be covered, by the same mail. He would, however, recommend that Ernest go immediately to some reputable physician and see if he could pa.s.s the physical examination. They had a naval surgeon there in Topeka, if he cared to incur the expense of a visit to the Capital.

Ernest was so busy poring over the catalogue that he could hardly be induced to stop long enough to eat his supper.

"I'm more afraid of the mathematics than anything else. I wonder if I couldn't get Prof. Smith to coach me. I could study all week and go in Sat.u.r.days to recite."

"The first thing to do is to get that doctor's certificate. We'll go to town to-morrow and have Dr. Hardy look you over, and if he doesn't find anything suspicious, we'll run down to Topeka to see the surgeon and call on the senator at the same time. I think I could go Monday."

The entire family held its breath or at least tried to, for the next few days. Mrs. Morton quite forgot how badly she had wanted Ernest to have an education, when she learned that he could only come home once a year, and then only for a short month. She sighed so much and was so distraught, that the family were almost afraid to rejoice with Ernest, when he came home jubilantly waving his physician's certificate.

"Never mind, Mother, that surgeon may send me packing. Don't worry till you are sure I'm going. Even if I am vouched for as up to the scratch physically, I may flunk, alas! Wouldn't that be nice after Father had put up a lot of money to send me on? You'd be ashamed of me, Mother, you wouldn't want to see me come home."

"I am not expecting you to fail, son," said Dr. Morton, "though I wish we could have arranged matters sooner to give you more time for review.

But with the exception of a little extra mathematics, the requirements are certainly no worse than for college entrance exams. And you've tested yourself out twice on those. Aren't you glad I insisted on more geometry?"

"He doesn't need to come home if he does fail. He can visit some of our friends in Centerville till college opens. It would only be a few days,"

Frank consoled him. "However, I am not expecting you to fail, old boy. I have always flattered myself that the Morton family are not lacking in brains, and you know how to study."

"I most wish he would fail so he could come to see us. Mother would love to have him spend the Christmas vacations with us," put in Katy navely.

"Thank you, Katy, I'd enjoy nothing better, but I've kinder set my heart on showing this naval outfit that a wild and woolly Kansan can measure up with some of those down-easters."

The naval surgeon confirmed Dr. Hardy's judgment. The senator had been cordial, and after some questioning, said he would send Ernest's name to the department immediately. He also gave him some helpful suggestions as to what subjects to put the emphasis on.

Two weeks seemed a pretty short time for preparation. Ernest thanked his lucky star that he had done a little studying through the summer in preparation for his college entrance, and was not rusty. The entire family waited on him and followed him round till Frank declared they would ruin the boy, if he didn't get off soon. Chicken Little sadly neglected her guests whenever it was possible to hang round Ernest. But Ernest was so busy, she seldom had a word alone with him. The two were very dear to each other despite their occasional bickering, and Chicken Little was almost jealous of every one who came near him during those last few days.

"Ernest," said his father the Sat.u.r.day before his departure, "will you take one farewell turn at herding to-morrow? Jim Bart wants to get off for the day and I'd like to have the cattle clean off that stubble field. I think I will plow early and put it in winter wheat this year. I have promised to drive Mother and the girls to town to church in the morning. We are to have dinner with the parson and won't be home until evening."

That evening Ernest overtook Chicken Little coming up from the spring with the b.u.t.ter and cream.

"Say, Sis, don't you want to stay home and help me herd to-morrow? The girls wouldn't mind this once."

"Oh, I'd love it. We just haven't had a good talk for ages--but I don't know what Mother'll say."

"I'll fix Mother," he answered confidently.

Later, he whispered: "It's all O. K."

"Gee, I guess Mother'd give you the moon if she could, she feels so bad about having you go so far away."

"Poor Mother, it's mighty rough on her out here on the ranch. Say, Sis, I don't mind if you want to wear some of my old truck to-day--we'll just be down in the field and your riding skirt will be a nuisance in among the cattle."

This was a mighty concession for Ernest, who had a considerable share of his mother's respect for the conventions. Chicken Little appreciated it.

She reached up and gave him a big hug.

"It's going to be awful hard to have you go, Ernest."

Ernest didn't say anything in reply, but he squeezed his young sister tight, as if he were realizing himself that he was about to miss something precious from his life.

The two were up early the next morning and off with the herd before the rest of the family were fairly through breakfast. Sherm was going in with the others to church. Annie had put up a lunch for Ernest and Jane; they did not expect to get back to the house until late afternoon.

The day was an August masterpiece, warm, but not too warm, with a fresh breeze blowing and shreds of blue haze lingering over the timber along the creek.

"It has almost a fall feel," said Chicken Little.

A brisk half-hour's work, in which Huz and Buz took an active part, hindering rather more than helping in the cattle driving, was sufficient to transfer the herd from the pasture to the stubble field. Chicken Little was thankful she had discarded her skirt, for they had many a chase after refractory animals through the timber and underbrush. Calico and Caliph, being mustangs, seemed to enjoy the sport as much as their riders.

"Cricky, Caliph is almost human when it comes to heading off a steer, and he's never done much cattle driving either. He must have inherited the range instinct."

"Humph, what about Calico?" retorted Jane. "He turned that roan Father always says is so mean, three times."

The cattle scattered over the stubble eagerly. Ernest picketed the ponies so they could graze after their good work and he and Chicken Little threw themselves down under a red bud tree near the edge of the field to rest.

"They won't stray much till they get their stomachs full," said Ernest, "and that won't be before afternoon. I brought a book along--Cooper's 'Naval History.' It's great, though Father says it's better romance than history. Do you mind if I read you a bit?"

Chicken Little backed up against a tree and settled herself comfortably and they were soon fighting with Paul Jones, so utterly absorbed that the herd had drifted down to the farther end of the field before they realized it. A half dozen adventurous beasts were already disappearing into the timber, apparently headed for the Captain's cornfield, which lay just beyond the creek.

"The pesky brutes! Why can't they be content with a good square meal at home?" Ernest hated to be interrupted.