The dead man found in Farmer Holly's barn created a decided stir in the village of Hinsdale.The case was a peculiar one for many reasons.First,because of the boy--Hinsdale supposed it knew boys,but it felt inclined to change its mind after seeing this one.Second,because of the circumstances.The boy and his father had entered the town like tramps,yet Higgins,who talked freely of his having given the pair a "lift"on that very evening,did not hesitate to declare that he did not believe them to be ordinary tramps at all.
As there had been little found in the dead man's pockets,save the two notes,and as nobody could be found who wanted the violins,there seemed to be nothing to do but to turn the body over to the town for burial.Nothing was said of this to David;indeed,as little as possible was said to David about anything after that morning when Higgins had given him his father's letter.At that time the men had made one more effort to "get track of SOMETHING,"as Higgins had despairingly put it.But the boy's answers to their questions were anything but satisfying,anything but helpful,and were often most disconcerting.The boy was,in fact,regarded by most of the men,after that morning,as being "a little off";and was hence let severely alone.
Who the man was the town authorities certainly did not know,neither could they apparently find out.His name,as written by himself,was unreadable.His notes told nothing;his son could tell little more--of consequence.A report,to be sure,did come from the village,far up the mountain,that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was almost inaccessible;but even this did not help solve the mystery.
David was left at the Holly farmhouse,though Simeon Holly mentally declared that he should lose no time in looking about for some one to take the boy away.
On that first day Higgins,picking up the reins preparatory to driving from the yard,had said,with a nod of his head toward David:--"Well,how about it,Holly?Shall we leave him here till we find somebody that wants him?""Why,y--yes,I suppose so,"hesitated Simeon Holly,with uncordial accent.
But his wife,hovering in the background,hastened forward at once.
"Oh,yes;yes,indeed,"she urged."I'm sure he--he won't be a mite of trouble,Simeon.""Perhaps not,"conceded Simeon Holly darkly."Neither,it is safe to say,will he be anything else--worth anything.""That's it exactly,"spoke up Streeter,from his seat in the wagon."If I thought he'd be worth his salt,now,I'd take him myself;but--well,look at him this minute,"he finished,with a disdainful shrug.
David,on the lowest step,was very evidently not hearing a word of what was being said.With his sensitive face illumined,he was again poring over his father's letter.
Something in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy hum of voices had not been able to do,and he raised his head.His eyes were starlike.
"I'm so glad father told me what to do,"he breathed."It'll be easier now."Receiving no answer from the somewhat awkwardly silent men,he went on,as if in explanation:--"You know he's waiting for me--in the far country,I mean.He said he was.And when you've got somebody waiting,you don't mind staying behind yourself for a little while.Besides,I've GOT to stay to find out about the beautiful world,you know,so I can tell him,when _I_go.That's the way I used to do back home on the mountain,you see,--tell him about things.Lots of days we'd go to walk;then,when we got home,he'd have me tell him,with my violin,what I'd seen.And now he says I'm to stay here.""Here!"It was the quick,stern voice of Simeon Holly.
"Yes,"nodded David earnestly;"to learn about the beautiful world.Don't you remember?And he said I was not to want to go back to my mountains;that I would not need to,anyway,because the mountains,and the sky,and the birds and squirrels and brooks are really in my violin,you know.And--"But with an angry frown Simeon Holly stalked away,motioning Larson to follow him;and with a merry glance and a low chuckle Higgins turned his horse about and drove from the yard.A moment later David found himself alone with Mrs.Holly,who was looking at him with wistful,though slightly fearful eyes.
"Did you have all the breakfast you wanted?"she asked timidly,resorting,as she had resorted the night before,to the everyday things of her world in the hope that they might make this strange little boy seem less wild,and more nearly human.
"Oh,yes,thank you."David's eyes had strayed back to the note in his hand.Suddenly he looked up,a new something in his eyes.
"What is it to be a--a tramp?"he asked."Those men said daddy and I were tramps.""A tramp?Oh--er--why,just a--a tramp,"stammered Mrs.Holly.
"But never mind that,David.I--I wouldn't think any more about it.""But what is a tramp?"persisted David,a smouldering fire beginning to show in his eyes."Because if they meant THIEVES--""No,no,David,"interrupted Mrs.Holly soothingly."They never meant thieves at all.""Then,what is it to be a tramp?"
"Why,it's just to--to tramp,"explained Mrs.Holly desperately;--"walk along the road from one town to another,and--and not live in a house at all.""Oh!"David's face cleared."That's all right,then.I'd love to be a tramp,and so'd father.And we were tramps,sometimes,too,'cause lots of times,in the summer,we didn't stay in the cabin hardly any--just lived out of doors all day and all night.Why,Inever knew really what the pine trees were saying till I heard them at night,lying under them.You know what I mean.You've heard them,haven't you?""At night?Pine trees?"stammered Mrs.Holly helplessly.
"Yes.Oh,haven't you ever heard them at night?"cried the boy,in his voice a very genuine sympathy as for a grievous loss.
