I blew slowly; I blew solemnly. Still, it sounded
like nothing else than a glad, exultant rallying-call.
I paused, horrified. From the rear of the moving procession, Aunt Patty,
with a yell and a frantic gesture of the hands, entreated me to "keep a
blowin'!"
And, as I stood thus on the steps of the deserted school-house and blew,
only to hear the wild lamentations of my soul translated into strains of
fiendish mirth through the medium of the horn, the Turkey Mogul, arrived
on his second visit of examination to the Wallencamp school, seemed to be
descending before my eyes, in a vortex of the giddy atmosphere. In fact,
he was alighting from his buggy, and a grim, though reassuring smile sat
on his features.
"I see! I see!" he nodded his head. "You've given them a good start," he
added, succinctly, indicating the direction of the Wallencampers; "humph!
yes! they are always up to something!"
He thrust his hands in his pockets, and, maintaining the same sardonic
grin, he, too, stood and watched that receding column.
It was an odd combination of circumstances. I had ceased my mad though
involuntary jubilate, on the horn, and was slowly aspiring to that
equanimity of mind which the exigencies of the case seemed to require,
when the Turkey Mogul turned abruptly, and without speaking a word,
handed me a soiled and wrinkled little sheet of paper, the contents of
which caused my heart, for an instant, to cease beating, and then set it
throbbing with a wild joy and exultation.
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