The White Crystals - Part 27
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Part 27

"And you want jest a ordinary chemist 'n' not a fortune teller, eh?"

"I do."

"Wa'al," said Mr. Took, at length, "ye come t' th' right place fere information fer onct in yer life, Roger. I know jest th' feller ye want.

He used t' live out here 'fore he growed up, got a eddercation, 'n'

become one a' them chaps what looks through a gla.s.s, 'n' tells ye 'bout bugs in th' drinkin' water, 'n' wigglers turnin inter musquiters. 'N' he looks through a thing like a telescope, 'n' tells ye 'bout lines, 'n'

angles, 'n' feet, 'n' chains, 'n' links, 'n' so on. What d' ye call them fellers?"

"Surveyors," ventured Roger.

"That's it. He's a surveyor. Addison Vanter is his name. He's one of 'em employed by the city, 'n' his office is in th' town hall. I'll take ye right t' him; I know him, 'n' he'll fix ye up. G'lang, Kate!"

"I didn't tell the folks I was coming away," said Roger, "so I hope we'll be back before very late. I wouldn't like them to be worried on my account."

"We'll git back all right," answered Mr. Took. "'Long 'bout haf-past eight er nine o'clock. Bert's folks won't miss ye 'til then, 'specially as boys is allers traipsin' off sommers er other."

"I guess nine o'clock will not be too late," said Roger. "Would you mind, Mr. Took," the boy went on, "not speaking about this trip to people in Cardiff? You see I want to surprise my uncle, and I don't want him to know anything about what I am doing. There's nothing wrong in it, though."

Mr. Took promised readily enough, as he knew he could trust the boy, and he did not ask any questions, for which Roger was grateful. They were well on their journey now, driving along the pleasant valley road in the sunshine. It yet lacked considerable of noon, but Roger began to feel hungry, for, in the excitement, he had not eaten much breakfast. Mr.

Took seemed to know this, and with a good-natured smile, he reached under the seat and pulled out a pail.

"My wife allers puts this snack up for me when I go t' th' city," he said. "Here, help yerself," and he extended the pail filled with crisp, brown doughnuts and some cream cheese. Roger did full justice to Mrs.

Took's excellent cooking, and, when he had finished the fifth cake he felt much better. Nor had Mr. Took been a whit behind him in disposing of the toothsome fried cakes.

"They're fine," was Roger's verdict.

"Allers make me thirsty," commented Mr. Took, "but I know where I kin git a drink."

He shook the reins, and Kate trotted on.

"Whoa up!" shouted Enberry, suddenly pulling the mare in. "Here we be."

Beside the road was a hollowed-out tree trunk, moss lined, filled to the edges and running over with clear, cool, sparkling water, that flowed and bubbled into the trough from a wooden pipe, made from a hollow log, which extended back to the spring. There was a dried yellow gourd for a dipper, and Mr. Took and Roger drank their fill, while Kate stuck her nose deep into the liquid, and sucked it up with queer little noises.

"Finest water in th' state," said Mr. Took, wiping his mouth dry on the back of his hand, "finest water in th' state."

And Roger agreed with him.

"Wa'al, we'll git along I guess," said Enberry, after a pause, and they made no other stop until they reached Syracuse. Mr. Took drove under the sheds back of the Candee House, where the Cardiff stage put up. This lumbering vehicle had arrived a few minutes before them.

"Not so bad," said Mr. Took, glancing at his big silver watch. "It's one o'clock. Now we'll git some dinner. h.e.l.lo, Porter!" he called to the stage driver, who just then emerged from the barn. "How be ye? Most got in ahead on ye, didn't I?"

"Had t' make a few extra stops," explained Mr. Amidown. "Made me a leetle late," and, with a nod, he pa.s.sed on.

Now Roger was almost as hungry as if he had not eaten the doughnuts, and he wanted his dinner very much. But he knew hotels charged for food, even if it was for a small boy, and he realized, for the first time, that, in his hurry he had come away without any money. So he began to wonder how he could pay for a meal, or even a half of one, providing they had that kind. He did not like to go in with Mr. Took, under the circ.u.mstances, so he rather hung back, when his friend followed the stage driver into the public parlor of the Candee House. But Enberry was quick to notice the boy's diffidence, and, rightly guessing the cause, he said:

"I'm standin' treat t'-day, Porter. You 'n' Roger here, is invited t'

dine at my expense. 'T ain't often I git a chanst t' hev company at my hotel, 'n' when I do I make th' most on it. Now, now," as he saw Roger hesitating, "no excuses, jest come right along. I've got lots t' do, 'n'

no time t' stand on ceremony. 'Sides, I'm 's hungry's a b'ar 'n' her four cubs."

So there was nothing to do but accept the invitation, and soon all three were sitting down to a plain, but bountifully spread table.

"I'll take ye t' thet feller I spoke about, Roger," said Mr. Took, as he began on his second piece of pie. "Then I'll hev t' leave ye. Be back here by six o'clock, 's I'll start then. Can't do my tradin' much afore thet. That'll give us a chanst t' git a bite a' supper, 'n' we kin be in Cardiff by nine o'clock. Th' moon's full, 'n' it'll be good drivin'."

"He kin go back 'ith me, 'bout three o'clock," spoke up Mr. Amidown.

"I'd like t' hev him on th' stage."

Roger thanked his friend for the offer, but said he was not sure he could be through with what he had to do in that short time, and so he decided to stick to his original plan and go back with Mr. Took. It would be more fun, too, he thought, driving home by moonlight. The dinner was soon over, and, when Mr. Took had paid the bill, he and Roger walked up the main street of Syracuse.

They made their way to the city hall, and Enberry soon located his acquaintance. Mr. Vanter was glad to see some one from Cardiff, especially Mr. Took, with whom he was quite friendly. Roger was introduced.

"He's a N' York city boy, out on a visit to his uncle, a neighbor a'

mine," explained Enberry. "He has a notion he wants t' see ye 'bout suthin', jest what, I don't know, but he'll tell ye. Now I've got t' go.

Remember, Roger, be at th' Candee House by six o'clock."

"I will," replied the boy, as Mr. Took left.

"Now, my young friend, what can I do for you?" asked Mr. Vanter, pleasantly.

Roger pulled from his pocket the paper containing the mysterious white crystals. He held them toward the surveyor.

"What are they?" the boy asked.

Mr. Vanter took them in his hand. He smelled of them, once, twice. Then, taking a tiny piece of one of the particles he touched it on the tip of his tongue. He made a wry face.

"Humph!" he remarked, and tasted again. "It must be," he muttered to himself, as Roger looked anxiously on. Then the chemist got a test tube, put some of the crystals in it, and poured a little water on them. He shook the gla.s.s violently, until the white particles had all dissolved.

Then he brought out several bottles of chemicals, and began his tests.

Roger was much interested, and, at the conclusion of the experimenting, when Mr. Vanter put his materials aside, the boy leaned forward, and asked breathlessly:

"What is it?"

"You have here," said Mr. Vanter, smiling a little, "a very fine sample of--pure rock salt."

"Salt?"

Roger's heart went away down into his shoes. Why, he thought, should Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley have been so elated over a little salt.

"Just ordinary salt, though a very fine grade," repeated the surveyor.

"Only salt," and there was a world of disappointment in Roger's tone.

"But salt is not to be despised, by any means," went on Mr. Vanter. "If it wasn't for the salt wells, Syracuse would not be such a fine city as it is. Besides, if there was no salt, the people of the whole world would be very badly off. Is there something behind all this, Roger?

Perhaps if you tell me I may be able to help you more than I can now. As it is I am working in the dark."

"Then I'll tell you everything," said Roger, and he did so, from the arrival of the two strangers in Cardiff, and his suspicions of them, the manner in which he had discovered them drilling the hole, how they sought to keep him away from the spring glade, and, finally, his escape from Mr. Ranquist that morning, ending with his journey to Syracuse.

"Hum," remarked Mr. Vanter at length. "Hum." He pursed up his lips, and wrinkled his forehead in deep thought as he paced rapidly back and forth in his office. Then he clapped his hands together with a resounding whack, and cried aloud: