The White Pine News

A PATENT ELOPEMENT

visitor, Jabez."

Old Farmer Smith rose from the dinner-table and picked up his hat from the side of the chair.

"Who is it, wife?" he asked.

"A young man," she replied.

The farmer's lip set tight as he witnessed a glance which passed between his wife and his daughter.

"I understand," he said, severely, with a determined look at the anxious face of the girl. "That London chap, Leslie Austin."

"Yes, father," she replied.

"I'll settle his business for him," and Farmer Smith strode into the parlor, his heavy boots sounding a death-knell to the faint hopes in the sinking heart of pretty, winsome Alice Smith. "So you're here again, eh?"

The brusque interrogatory did not seem to crush the courteous, handsome young man, who arose and faced the farmer.

"Yes, Mr. Smith," was his reply.

"And on the same old errand, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir; I came to ask your consent"

"You can't have it!" interrupted Farmer Smith, savagely. "Alice ain't going to marry you or anybody else, just yet."

"But time"

"You've heard me, Mr. Leslie Austin. You can't have my daughter."

"I love her, Mr. Smith."

"Nonsense! She's too young to know her own mind. I have said my say, and the harvest hands are waiting. Good-day, sir!"

Under such determined resistance Leslie Austin retreated. He bit his lips angrily, as he walked rapidly down the road to the village hotel.

"It's a shame," decided his friend Bob Townsend, as he heard the disappointed lover's story.

"We think so much of each other,"

"You ain't going to give up this way, are you?" asked Bob.

Leslie looked up inquiringly.

"What else can I do?" he asked.

"Marry her," said Bob.

"Her father won't consent."

"Suppose he don't."

Leslie started, but shook his head slowly.

"I know what you're hitting at, Bob—an elopement."

"You're right."

"But it could not be."

"Why not?"

"Because Alice is bound to obey her father, and I am, too, for that matter."

Bob scowled impatiently.

"Nonsense!" he aspirated, angrily. "See here, Leslie. If you were the irresponsible chap old Smith thinks you, I'd hesitate; but you ain't—you're an honest, well-to-do lawyer, respectably connected, and only laboring under a prejudice on the farmer's part, that because neighbor Jones' girl married a worthless man from the metropolis all such matches must end similarly."

"Granted."

"Therefore, being in the right, and the old farmer being in one of his mad moods, I'd outwit him."

"How?"

The query was encouraging.

"Run away with Alice," said Bob.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Her father watches her too closely."

"That's the only reason, is it?"

"I believe so."

"She's willing?"

"Presumably,"

"And you?"

"O, Bob, you're talking nonsense! I might as well go back to London and wait until Mr. Smith changes his mind."

"And let some other fellow have Alice. You're a brave lover"

Leslie was despondent.

"I have a plan, if you're plucky enough to follow it out," suggested Bob.

Leslie's face grew expectant at the hint.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Listen!"

What Bob told the discouraged lover need not be repeated. The subsequent acts of the conspirators afford a sufficient explanation.

It was the next day that faithful Bob reconnoitered the ground, and found that Farmer Smith had indeed taken due precaution to prevent his daughter meeting or running away with Leslie.

But Bob managed to get a letter to the fair prisoner—a letter after reading which secretly she manifested her acquiescence to its contents by an intelligent nod to the messenger.

It was the afternoon of the day following, just as Farmer Smith had sent his boys to the town with a load of potatoes, and was seated, resting for an hour or two, on the front porch, with Alice industriously sewing by his side, that a vehicle driven by a single occupant came down the road.

Old Jabez looked in profound amazement as the vehicle came to a stop. It was a kind of skeleton wagon, with a double seat, and behind it was attached a small rubber hose, with several wheels distributed here and there, near the axle.

"In the name of wonder, what have we here?" he said, as he walked to the gate.

The driver sprang down.

"Jabez Smith?" he asked.

The farmer nodded a dignified assent, little dreaming that the bearded stranger was Bob Townsend in disguise.

"I learn from inquiries in the village that you are quite a scientist, Mr. Smith."

Science, of which old Jabez knew nothing, but affected much, was his salient point. Flattered by the stranger's words, he replied pompously:

"I reckon I know something about it."

"I have come, Mr. Smith," said the stranger, "to show you a new motive power for hay rakes."

The farmer's face fell.

"A patent right!" he muttered. "I don't want to buy one," he said, aloud, turning to re-enter the house.

"Buy one!" replied the stranger. "This is not for sale, sir," declared Bob, with quiet dignity. "I desire your opinion as a scientist in regard to the principles involved in its construction and operations."

The farmer's face grew pleased again.

"Happy to give it, sir. If I can be of any use to the world at large by my knowledge of science"

"Or make your fellow beings happy you're ready to sacrifice your valuable time, eh, Mr. Smith?" insinuated Bob.

"Certainly, sir."

"You can—you can, believe me, sir," asseverated the wicked conspirator, earnestly and truthfully. "Have you a rake?"

"Yes."

"I'll help you bring it out here, and we'll make a trial trip of this wonderful machine."

A few minutes later the farmer's hay rake was brought out. Bob made much ado of fastening it by a rope to the rear of the vehicle, and the farmer watched him curiously, as he turned the wheels and adjusted the hose to what he called position.

"This hose is an air brake, sir. The idea is, if we can make it do so, to have the rake operate as usual. The air brake might offer a resistance to the ground, push forward the front vehicle, and ventilate the hay. Man and brute creation demand air—why not vehicles?"

"Quite true," replied Jabez, somewhat dubious and perplexed over the apparent uselessness of the machine.

"Utility and nonrefragibility, Mr. Smith," rattled on Bob, recklessly! "The hypothenuse of the curve of the diameter of the axle, you perceive, has a circumferential effect upon the spheroid concavity of the brake. You will understand these terms, Mr. Smith, as a mathematician and scientist. All ready?"

Farmer Smith, overcome by the lofty words, obeyed mutely, as Bob requested him to get into the rake seat.

"I'll drive the preliminary vehicle," explained Bob, with a serene chuckle at the fun of his oratory, "and you will watch the effect of the air brake—the friction of the wheels generates air—over yonder stretch of meadow. By the way, is one of your hands around?"

"They've gone to town," replied Jabez, bluntly.

He had a vague consciousness that the stranger was a charlatan, for he could not for the life of him see what possible use the clumsy combination of wheels and hose could be.

"Ah, there's a young lady! Your daughter, Mr. Smith, I presume?" said Bob, raising his hat politely. "There must be more weight on the seat of the front vehicle. If you'll let her take her seat beside me, in the interests of science, Mr. Smith?"

He almost lost his dignified gravity as he saw the suspicious look on the old farmer's face.

The last words, "in the interests of science," however, decided Mr. Smith.

"Jump in, Alice," he said, desperately.

The stranger whipped up the horse.

Old Jabez, in the rake-seat behind, clung on wildly as the horse was driven briskly. He almost fell forward as there was a break caused by the rope parting. Bob had deftly cut it with a knife.

"Hold on—hold on!" cried old Jabez, as the new motor-power vehicle dashed forward.

He stared blankly as it traversed the field, made a sharp turn to the road, and, gracefully rounded a curve in the highway, disappeared from view.

What did it mean? The boys had taken the horses to town, and he could not start in pursuit; but he grew white as he discerned a fact:

He had been tricked!

He had cooled down considerably when, at nightfall, a carriage drew up before the gate.

He looked grimly up from beneath his shaggy eyebrows as Leslie Austin and pretty, blushing Alice came forward.

Bob, following them, was the first to speak.

"The new motor power took up a new passenger down the road, Farmer Smith," he said, shyly. "You wanted to make mankind happy, neighbor—you've done it."

Jabez made a feint to declare hostilities, then and there, against the conspirators, but he sank back disarmed in his chair as the gentle voice of his wife said, pleadingly:

"Forgive them, father—they are so happy!"

And Farmer Smith had not the heart to say nay.