Wakulla | Page 4

GHOST AND FINDS
HIM IN A TRYING POSITION X. A RUNAWAY'S STORY, AND
ITS HAPPY ENDING XI. "THE ELMER MILL AND FERRY
COMPANY" XII. THE GREAT MILL PICNIC XIII. FIGHTING A
FOREST FIRE XIV. HOW THE BOYS CAUGHT AN ALLIGATOR
XV. A FIRE HUNT, AND MARK'S DISAPPEARANCE XVI.
BURIED IN AN UNDERGROUND RIVER XVII. TWO LETTERS
AND A JOURNEY XVIII. THE BURNING OF THE "WILDFIRE"
XIX. UNCLE CHRISTOPHER'S "GREAT SCHEME" XX. EDNA
MAY MARCH

WAKULLA
CHAPTER I.
PREPARING TO LEAVE THE OLD HOME.
Over and over again had Mark and Ruth Elmer read this paragraph,
which appeared among the "Norton Items" of the weekly paper
published in a neighboring town:
"We are sorry to learn that our esteemed fellow-townsman, Mark Elmer,
Esq., owing to delicate health, feels compelled to remove to a warmer
climate. Having disposed of his property in this place, Mr. Elmer has

purchased a plantation in Florida, upon which he will settle
immediately. As his family accompany him to this new home in the
Land of Flowers, the many school-friends and young playmates of his
interesting children will miss them sadly."
"I tell you what, Ruth," said Mark, after they had read this item for a
dozen times or more, "we are somebodies after all, and don't you forget
it. We own a plantation, we do, and have disposed of our PROPERTY
in this place."
As Mark looked from the horse-block on which he was sitting at the
little weather-beaten house, nestling in the shadow of its glorious trees,
which, with its tiny grass-plot in front, was all the property Mr. Elmer
had ever owned, he flung up his hat in ecstasy at the idea of their being
property owners, and tumbled over backward in trying to catch it as it
fell.
"What I like," said Ruth, who stood quietly beside him, "is the part
about us being interesting children, and to think that the girls and boys
at school will miss us."
"Yes, and won't they open their eyes when we write them letters about
the alligators, and the orange groves, and palm-trees, and bread-fruit,
and monkeys, and Indians, and pirates? Whoop-e-e-e! what fun we are
going to have!"
"Bread-fruit, and monkeys, and pirates, and Indians in Florida! what
are you thinking of, Mark Elmer?"
"Well, I guess 'Osceola the Seminole' lived in Florida, and it's tropical,
and pirates and monkeys are tropical too, ain't they?"
Just then the tea-bell rang, and the children ran in to take the paper
which they had been reading to their father, and to eat their last supper
in the little old house that had always been their home.
Mr. Elmer had, for fifteen years, been cashier of the Norton Bank; and
though his salary was not large, he had, by practising the little

economies of a New England village, supported his family comfortably
until this time, and laid by a sum of money for a rainy day. And now
the "rainy day" had come. For two years past the steady confinement to
his desk had told sadly upon the faithful bank cashier, and the stooping
form, hollow cheeks, and hacking cough could no longer be
disregarded. For a long time good old Dr. Wing had said,
"You must move South, Elmer; you can't stand it up here much longer."
Both Mr. Elmer and his wife knew that this was true; but how could
they move South? where was the money to come from? and how were
they to live if they did? Long and anxious had been the consultations
after the children were tucked into their beds, and many were the
prayers for guidance they had offered up.
At last a way was opened, "and just in time, too," said the doctor, with
a grave shake of his head. Mrs. Elmer's uncle, Christopher Bangs,
whom the children called "Uncle Christmas," heard of their trouble,
and left his saw-mills and lumber camps to come and see "where the
jam was," as he expressed it. When it was all explained to him, his
good-natured face, which had been in a wrinkle of perplexity, lit up,
and with a resounding slap of his great, hard hand on his knee, he
exclaimed,
"Sakes alive! why didn't you send for me, Niece Ellen? why didn't you
tell me all this long ago, eh? I've got a place down in Florida, that I
bought as a speculation just after the war. I hain't never seen it, and
might have forgot it long ago but for the tax bills coming in reg'lar
every year. It's down on the St. Mark's River, pretty nigh the Gulf coast,
and ef you want to go there and farm it, I'll give you a ten years' lease
for the taxes, with a chance to buy at your own rigger when the