The major fairly beamed on his guests across the hospitable board.

"It must have been Miss Sallie's fault," thought Mollie, watching his handsome face with a secret admiration. "He is certainly the dearest old man alive. I wonder if she isn't sorry now?"

And as if in answer to her unspoken question, she heard Miss Sallie saying:

"John, I hope this is not the last visit you will let us make to Ten Eyck Hall. In spite of its fires and tramps I should like to come again."

"I should be the happiest man in the world if you only would," he answered. "I am greatly relieved that you haven't got an everlasting prejudice against it."

"When I settle down for the winter," Jimmie Butler was heard to remark above the hum of conversation, "I mean to take up a certain study and not leave off studying it until I have graduated with diploma and honors."

"What is it, Jimmie?" demanded the others.

"Prize fighting," he replied. "I intend to learn wrestling and boxing, likewise just plain hair-pulling and scratching. Prize fighting in all its varieties for me before another year rolls round."

"You will have to go into training, then, Jim," exclaimed Alfred. "You will not be permitted to eat anything you like and not too much of anything else."

"No more hot bread for you, Jimmie," continued Stephen. "No more waffles and Johnnie-cakes. You will have to punch the bag mornings, when you would rather be sleeping, and give up theatres in the evenings for early bedtime. It's a fearful life, my boy."

"Be that as it may," persisted Jimmie, "I'm going to learn how to deal a blow that will give a man a black eye the first time, and if ever I get hold of that wiry individual who gave me these in the woods, yonder," he pointed to his red nose and discolored eye, "he'll get such a 'licking'

as he'll remember to his last hour. Even Stephen's giant won't be a match for me."

There was joyous laughter at this, followed by remarks from Martin and Alfred of a rather sarcastic character, such as "Give it to him, Jimmie!

Give him a b.u.mp in the ribs!"

"I am going to have the woods patrolled, hereafter, in the summer time,"

observed the major, "and all dangerous characters will be excluded. The next time we have a house party there will be no tramps to threaten my guests."

"By the way," said Stephen, "the giant tramp is in the hospital now. He was drunk when the fire started, and fell asleep. He was badly burned and almost suffocated, but his poor, long-suffering wife managed to save him somehow. The other two had left him to die."

"Will you have him arrested when he gets well, Major?" asked Ruth.

"No," replied the major, somewhat confused. "I suppose I should, but he tells me he was despoiled of his living by a dishonest master, and I have concluded to make it up to him for being richer than he is by giving him something to do. We have several farms back in the country and I have put him in charge of the smallest one. It seems that farming is the very thing he wants to do more than anything else in life. He will have to travel a good distance before he can get anything to drink, and his wife is the happiest woman over the prospect you ever saw."

"Major, major!" protested Miss Sallie. "What will you do next?"

"Ah, well," exclaimed the major, "it is good to be able to give a man a chance to earn an honest living, especially if he wants to take it. And, when this poor wretch heard about that bit of land and little cottage back yonder in the hills, he looked as if he had had a glimpse of heaven. His wife told me that he had really tried, again and again to find something to do; but indoor life was very irksome to him because he had been brought up on a farm, and working in factories and foundries had been his undoing."

"Stephen, how do you feel about it?" asked Alfred. "He was your opponent in the fight, you know."

"Oh, I don't mind," replied Stephen. "He didn't give me a black eye, and I am glad for him to earn an honest living. Uncle's a brick."

When the meal was over Major Ten Eyck rose from the table, clearing his throat as if he were about to make a speech, which indeed he was.

"I have something to say before this party breaks up, for myself and the boys. We want to express to you, how deeply grateful we feel to you, Miss Sallie and 'The Automobile Girls,' for what you have done for us.

"You have saved our old home for us, at the risk of your own precious lives, and there is nothing we can really do or say to show how much we appreciate it. The place has been in the family ever since there were any Ten Eycks to live in it. I was born here and I love it, and I hope to end my days here--"

"Don't speak as if you were on the brink of the grave, Major, I beg of you," protested Miss Sallie. "You are not many years older than I am, and I certainly will not allow such mournful thoughts to trouble me so soon."

"You will always be young, Sallie," replied the gallant major.

"You are nothing but a boy yourself, John," replied Miss Stuart, blushing in spite of herself, while the young people exchanged stealthy smiles at these elderly compliments.

"I was saying," continued the major, who remained standing to finish his speech, "that there was nothing we could do, the boys and I, to show how we feel in this matter. But when you wear these little ornaments" (here the major handed Miss Sallie and each of the girls a little jeweler's box) "we hope you will remember that we are your devoted friends always.

It was Stephen's idea, and there was not much time to get them, but the jeweler undertook a rush order for us, and I hope they are all right."

"Hurray!" cried Jimmie, rolling his napkin into a ball and tossing it into the air.

There were cries of pleasure when the boxes gave up their treasures, small gold firemen's helmets studded with pearls and a row of rubies on the curve of the brim.

As if this were not enough, John came in with a tray of bouquets, each one different, as on a former occasion. The major had picked and arranged the flowers himself for Miss Sallie and "The Automobile Girls,"

as a last reminder of Ten Eyck Hall, he said.

"It is worth while going into the firemen's business, if one is to be so well repaid," exclaimed Ruth.

Bab felt particularly rich in souvenirs of her visit, with a picture of a new and hitherto unknown great-aunt, a ring and a beautiful pin.

"We are all much too excited to thank you properly, Major," she said.

"I don't want any thanks, my dear child," replied the major. "I wish to avoid them."

"Somebody should make a speech," cried Jimmie's voice above the jollity.

"I think I'll be the one." He cleared his throat. "Major John Ten Eyck,"

he said bowing toward the major, "I know these young ladies appreciate deeply the handsome souvenirs you have bestowed upon them, but youth and inexperience have tied their tongues. However, mine is loosened and I wish to thank you a thousand times for the souvenirs which I also am carrying away from Ten Eyck Hall, namely my beautiful ruby nose and my blue enameled eyes."

There was more laughter and more exchange of jokes and fun, when Martin who had slipped out of the room for a moment, returned with a small bundle which he handed to Jimmie.

"We'll give you a b.o.o.by prize, Jimmie," he said, "since the ladies have been awarded the first prize."

Jimmie opened the bundle and drew forth a boxing glove which he put on immediately and chased Martin out of the room. This was the signal for the breaking up of the lunch party.

The boxes and suit cases were already piled in their accustomed place on the back of the car and there was nothing for the girls to do but to pin on their hats and veils, slip on their silk dusters and go.

The servants had lined up in the hall to say good-bye. Jose had begged to be permitted to remain downstairs until after the visitors had gone.

As the automobiles sped down the avenue, the major, standing by the sick boy's cot, waved good-bye from the piazza.

Only Bab saw another handkerchief waving its pathetic farewell from a window in the right wing. She gave an answering wave with her own little handkerchief which she hoped the old man would not miss.

"Good-bye to Ten Eyck Hall," she said to herself as she looked back at the beautiful old house. "You are full of tragic memories, but I love you and I would have risked much to have saved you from crumbling to a heap of ashes."

As they pa.s.sed over the bridge and came to the crossroads by the woods, they were stopped by blind Jennie, who silently presented Bab and Ruth each with a small cross she herself had carved from wood. Then to Bab she gave a beautiful bunch of yellow roses, which the hermit had begged the girl to accept with his best wishes.

CHAPTER XXV-CONCLUSION