Harry’s letter was not a long one, but it contained
at least the calamitous figures that came out in the
above conversation. The Colonel found himself
in a rather uncomfortable place—no $1,200
salary forthcoming; and himself held responsible for
half of the $9,640 due the workmen, to say nothing
of being in debt to the company to the extent of nearly
$4,000. Polly’s heart was nearly broken;
the “blues” returned in fearful force,
and she had to go out of the room to hide the tears
that nothing could keep back now.
There was mourning in another quarter, too, for Louise
had a letter. Washington had refused, at the
last moment, to take $40,000 for the Tennessee Land,
and had demanded $150,000! So the trade fell
through, and now Washington was wailing because he
had been so foolish. But he wrote that his man
might probably return to the city soon, and then he
meant to sell to him, sure, even if he had to take
$10,000. Louise had a good cry-several of them,
indeed—and the family charitably forebore
to make any comments that would increase her grief.
Spring blossomed, summer came, dragged its hot weeks
by, and the Colonel’s spirits rose, day by day,
for the railroad was making good progress. But
by and by something happened. Hawkeye had always
declined to subscribe anything toward the railway,
imagining that her large business would be a sufficient
compulsory influence; but now Hawkeye was frightened;
and before Col. Sellers knew what he was about,
Hawkeye, in a panic, had rushed to the front and subscribed
such a sum that Napoleon’s attractions suddenly
sank into insignificance and the railroad concluded
to follow a comparatively straight coarse instead of
going miles out of its way to build up a metropolis
in the muddy desert of Stone’s Landing.
The thunderbolt fell. After all the Colonel’s
deep planning; after all his brain work and tongue
work in drawing public attention to his pet project
and enlisting interest in it; after all his faithful
hard toil with his hands, and running hither and thither
on his busy feet; after all his high hopes and splendid
prophecies, the fates had turned their backs on him
at last, and all in a moment his air-castles crumbled
to ruins abort him. Hawkeye rose from her fright
triumphant and rejoicing, and down went Stone’s
Landing! One by one its meagre parcel of inhabitants
packed up and moved away, as the summer waned and fall
approached. Town lots were no longer salable,
traffic ceased, a deadly lethargy fell upon the place
once more, the “Weekly Telegraph” faded
into an early grave, the wary tadpole returned from
exile, the bullfrog resumed his ancient song, the
tranquil turtle sunned his back upon bank and log
and drowsed his grateful life away as in the old sweet
days of yore.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Philip Sterling was on his way to Ilium, in the state
of Pennsylvania. Ilium was the railway station
nearest to the tract of wild land which Mr. Bolton
had commissioned him to examine.
Copyrights
The Gilded Age from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.