Matt Balter was snoring.

   Across the table, Jason Bolt leaned over and whispered to Aaron Stempel, "Matthew was so eager to get re-elected to the council, I should think he'd manage to keep his eyes open."

   "Well...." Aaron nodded toward Reverend Adams, who was reading the financial statement for the previous quarter, as he had been for the past twenty minutes. "Revenues from property taxes suffered a 6.5% drop," he was reading, "but were more than compensated for by an 18% increase in taxes on spirits."

   The door to Lottie's backroom opened, and Candy Pruitt marched in carrying a sewing basket. She took a chair at the side...a broken chair that had been retired from service in the saloon, and sank at one corner as she plopped into it. The councilmembers stared at her, except for Balter, who was still asleep. "Don't mind me," she said.

   Adams stopped reading, and the men looked at one another uncertainly. "Candy," said Jason, "we're holding a..."

   "Meeting of the town council. I know, that's why I'm here. I have to address the council."

   Aaron looked his agenda. "Concerning which item?"

   "None of them."

   He smiled patronizingly. "The correct procedure is to submit a request to the council in writing..."

   Candy took a small book from her basket and opened it to a page she had marked. "The rules of order state, 'The officers of a public body shall provide an opportunity for the public to address the body.'" She slapped the book shut. "You're the body. And I'm the public. But you go right ahead, I'll wait my turn." She took out a ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needles.

   Aaron moved that the financial report be tabled. Jason seconded the motion. "All in favor?" The three conscious members voted aye. Jason kicked Balter under the table, bringing him to. "I..." said Balter. Aaron pounded the gavel. "Motion carried. Does any member of the public have business before the council?"

   Candy lay down her bundle, picked up her book, and slid out the cutting she had been using for a bookmark. "This article from last week's Olympia Sentinel states that the legislature intends to relocate the territorial university. 'The committee will hold hearings to determine a new location.'"

   "Warned you not to show her that," Aaron said to Jason, not quite under his breath.

    "Beg your pardon?"

   Adams cleared his throat. "I'm afraid it was I." The other men stared at him.

   "Yes, he did," said Candy, "and I want to know what you intend to do about it."

   They looked at one another again. "What would you like us to do?" Jason asked carefully.

   "Go to those hearings and tell them the university belongs here."

   "In a bar?" Balter snorted.

   "Here in Seattle," Candy said crossly.

   "Candy," said Aaron, "Seattle has few enough grammar-educated men..."

   "All the more reason for a university."

   "Our children aren't even of an age for high school," Jason objected.

   "But soon will be. We should establish one of those too while we're at it."

   "Whyn'tcha throw in a fairy castle?" said Balter. "And one of them pyramids like they got in Ee-gypt?" He chuckled .

   Candy drew herself up. "Laugh if you will. But I have a brother and sister and I intend for them to be raised in an educated community. Mr. Balter, you have a daughter..."

   "My Lorena don't need none of your book learnin'!" Balter said with sudden vehemence. "She's got plenty of brains already. And I'll thank you not to meddle in things that don't concern you."

   "Settle down," Jason ordered.

   "Don't like folks pryin' into my business," Balter grumbled. "Can we go home?"

   "I think," said Adams, "we should seriously consider Miss Pruitt's proposal, which I for one find highly perspicacious...not to say serendipitous. Or, to put it plainly..."

   "Please, Reverend," said Balter.

   "You're right, Jason, we have no one to send to the university...yet. But as part of the institution, we can establish a preparatory school at the primary and secondary levels."

   "But first we have to get the institution," Candy insisted. "And to do that, someone has to speak up at those hearings."

   Aaron was not prepared to fight the two of them. "I move we send a representative," he said. Jason seconded the motion. "All in favor?" Three of the men at the table said aye. Balter sat back, folding his arms.

   "May as well give in, Matthew," said Jason, "or we won't hear any peace for a month of Sundays."

   "Why 'a month of Sundays'?" mused Adams. "Why should men speak of Sundays as being..."

   "Awright," said Balter, "anything to get outa here."

   Aaron pounded the gavel. "If there's no further business..." Adams cleared his throat. "Yes?"

   "We haven't determined whom we'll send."

   Aaron looked at Jason. "Shall I go this time?"

   "Two weeks after the hearings were done, you'd still be writing your speech." Aaron laughed, acknowledging the point. "Nah, I'll do it."

   Adams cleared his throat. "Actually I was meaning to propose myself."

   "You!" Balter shouted. "Haw!"

   Aaron smiled broadly. "You'd be the perfect spokesman." He turned to Jason. "Don't you think so?" Jason regarded him curiously.

   Candy looked doubtful. "Have you had any experience at this sort of thing?"

   Adams smiled rather smugly. "Every Sunday."

   "Of course," Aaron agreed with uncharacteristic joviality, "we've all heard you. I'm sure Miss Pruitt can't stand there and tell us she hasn't listened to every word of your sermons?"

   "No," said Candy, staring hard at him, "I certainly can't do that."

   "There you are," Aaron said triumphantly. He stood, pumped Adams's hand, wished him luck, and declared the meeting adjourned. Balter was out the door at once. Adams left in conversation with Candy. Jason waited till they were all gone before finding out what Aaron was up to.

   "There is no university," said Aaron. "Never has been except on paper. It's a bubble. The money they appropriate for it goes to line their pockets. They have no intention of changing that. They're just making a big noise before someone else does. They'll listen politely to everyone who shows up, then send them home. You'll see...nothing will change."

   To his surprise and everyone else's, including Candy's, Adams brought back different tidings. The first to hear them were the townspeople at the dock when the steamer arrived, next some of the brides at the dormitory...Candy, whom he had been seeking, not being among them...then other folk who heard it from one or another of those who had heard it first, all following the Reverend in an ever-accumulating pack and assisting him in spreading the news.

   So it came to pass that Aaron and Jason, jointly inspecting the initial run of a job that the mill was having to be recut, looked up to see a large part of the population running toward them, pushing Adams along in front of them. "We got it! We got it!" came the cry.

   Aaron and Jason came out to meet them. Adams came to a halt, panting. "We...got it."

   "Easy, Reverend," said Jason. "Got what?"

   Adams thought it would be obvious. "The university!" The crowd cheered in confirmation.

   Jason and Aaron looked at each other. "Fast work for public servants," said Aaron.

   "It hasn't been put to the vote," Adams admitted, "but it's a foreordained conclusion. I've received the highest assurances...confidentially, of course..."

   "Who was doing this assurin'?" asked Jason.

   "Chairman of the committee, and the deputy chair. It was the most extraordinary thing. I had a serm...I mean, speech...prepared, but I'd barely started when they told me they'd heard enough."

   "I can understand..." Aaron began. He stopped at Jason's look.

   "In all honesty, I believe that my success owed less to my oratory than to my prior acquaintance with the two gentlemen."

   "You knew them?" said Jason.

   "Not knew...not precisely." He recounted the story, to his listeners' increasing amazement. On his first evening in Olympia, in the course of seeking a respectable hotel, he had run across two prosperous-looking gentlemen in the company of two younger ladies, who appeared to have fallen off the path ("I'll bet they had," Aaron interjected) and with whom the gentlemen were engaged in a controversy over a sum of money that the ladies claimed was owing to them. The Reverend stepped up to offer his aid in sorting the matter out, whereupon one of the gentlemen recalled that he did have the money, after all: he had been holding it in his purse for safekeeping. He gave it to the ladies, and they quickly took their leave.

   Jason and Aaron were not quite smiling as they listened, leaving Adams innocently unaware of any amusement he might be occasioning. He went on to explain that the gentlemen had professed their deepest thanks for his assistance and had vowed that if there were any favor they could do him while he was in town he had but to ask. The next morning he turned up before their committee. "You can imagine their surprise," he said, ("I can indeed," said Jason) "and they gave me their personal guarantee that the university is ours."

   The crowd cheered again. Jason and Aaron remained silent. "For form's sake," Adams added, "they're obliged to visit all the communities that were represented at the hearings, examine their suitability...although we already know which is the most suitable." He chuckled. "Each town is to put them up for a night or two." Aaron asked how many towns that made. "Ten, twelve..."

   "Plenty of free meals," said Aaron.

   "...and they arrive here Thursday week," Adams concluded, rather suddenly.

   "We have to be put our best foot forward." That was Candy's dictum after she heard the news. Jason was still at the mill, and so she was able to instruct both him and Aaron at once.

   "Which foot would that be?" asked Jason, furrowing his brow.

   She did not laugh. "We have to show them that we're an enlightened community, dedicated to the furtherance of knowledge."

   "Don't you think..." Jason began.

   "And I expect both of you to do your part." Aaron peered over his clasped hands at Jason. One of them sighed, Candy could not tell which; perhaps both.

    On the day of the expected arrival, a large crowd was gathered at the quayside. The town looked as it always did, except that the two hogs which usually had the run of the main thoroughfare were nowhere to be seen. Candy had prevailed on one of the households on the bluffs to take them in for the duration. She would have liked to smooth and regularize the streets, but mud was mud; there wasn't much you could do about it.

   She had cautioned as many of her neighbors as she could spread the word to that she expected them to watch their deportment. One of these was her boyfriend Jeremy Bolt, and this morning...to her relief, if the truth were known...he was not present. Neither was his brother Joshua, whom she would have liked to see, to give a studious, serious air to her campaign. That would have been if he had felt in the mood, as Candy knew but did not bother to mention to herself. Jason, when asked, said that Joshua was over at the mill overseeing the redone job, Aaron and himself being otherwise employed.

   Candy took his point but chose to ignore it. "While we're on the subject," asked Jason, "where's the Reverend?" She explained that the two of them had divided the labor: she would show the visitors around town, and he would remain in church to pray for their success. "After all..." she began. "Can't hurt," Aaron finished.

   The steamer appeared around the promontory south of town. As it chugged toward port, the crowd strained to get a look at the passengers. All they could see were a couple of crew hands. Maybe they weren't coming, after all? The group waited expectantly.

   As the steamer pulled in, two figures at the stern became visible, sitting on deck chairs faced away from the dockside. As soon as the boat came to rest, the larger of the two rose expansively and made his way to the front, followed by the other. They were dressed in rich woolens..."They didn't get those suits in Olympia," Aaron murmured...with gold watch chains gleaming at their abdomens, rings gleaming on their fingers, and jeweled stickpins gleaming at their collars.

   The larger man descended the gangplank first with a magisterial air. His companion followed in an attitude of self-important modesty. "Our humble servants," said Jason.

   "Your humble servant," said the larger man, when Jason and Aaron had stepped up and introduced themselves. He gave his name as Mr. Clipp, and that of his worthy colleague as Mr. Dodge. They tipped their derbies to the crowd at large.

   Mr. Clipp took a deep breath. "Ah, the invigorating scent of the cedar. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, as our Mr....er..."

   Dodge bent toward him and spoke in his ear. "Longfellow," he said quietly.

   "...as our Mr. Longfellow so beautifully phrases it. Gentlemen...madam," he added, tipping his hat to Candy, "we are honored to be here, to play our small role in kindling the beacon of knowledge, which will blaze...blaze, I say...to all corners of the territory. Nor shall we rest...nay, not a moment...until...until..."

   "Kids," murmured Dodge.

   "...until every child now playing at jackdaws" (Jackdaws? Aaron mouthed) "or mumble-the-peg...every babe now squalling in its mama's arms...shall reap the harvest of the seeds we sow here. Our sacred duty..."

   At that moment the steamer made an ungainly noise. Whether it was by accident or design would be a subject of debate that evening at Lottie's, but in any event it curtailed the oration. The crowd, which had been staring wooden-faced till now, broke into laughter. Jason and Aaron were laughing the hardest. Candy glowered at them, then quickly stepped forward. "We're so pleased to have you here," she said, in a voice loud enough to quiet the others. "You'll see that in Seattle the pursuit of knowledge is elevated above all..."

   A shout of many voices...an egging-on kind of shout...reached them from outside the mill. Clipp's eyes glowed. "Sounds like a prizefight," he said. It looked like one too, as they soon saw, except that the ring of men circling and cheering on the activity, whatever it might have been, was moving toward them by stages. Aaron recognized the men as his workers. The two visitors expressed a wish for a closer look. Candy, who was sure that that was a bad idea but was unable to say so, had no choice but to go along. The others were already heading that way anyhow.

   What the visitors saw startled them. Instead of the bare-chested pugilists they had expected, they found two men fully clothed but blindfolded, each swinging at the other with a long stocking stuffed with cloth and dripping wet. Sometimes one man would land a blow, more often he would miss and swat at one of the spectators, who would jump back to avoid him. It was a wonder that the combatants ever managed to find each other, but so they did at last, and a prolonged exchange of blows followed, until one fell to his knees and, after braving several successive whacks on the back of the neck, gave up. The crowd cheered. The sock fighters pulled off their blindfolds...

   Candy shut her eyes. It was what she had feared but had been unable to tell certainly because of the crowd. "Gentlemen," said Jason, indicating the loser, "my brother Joshua."

   "Who are they?" said Joshua from the ground, nodding at the strangers.

   Jason introduced the Honorable Mr. Clipp and the Honorable Mr. Dodge. "From the capital," he added significantly.

   "Oh," said Joshua. "How are ya?" Some of the men helped him to his feet. He smiled at Jason and Aaron. "We were just taking a..." They were watching him with impassive faces. "Reckon we'll go back to..." Their expressions did not change. "Come on, you lazybones!" Joshua barked. "Stop killin' time! There's work to be done!" Many of them grinned as he led them off. Jason and Aaron glanced at each other and shook their heads slightly, then turned back to their guests.

   "Like the lady said," Jason declared, "a regular hotbed of learnin'."

   Candy made a vow to herself which was not entirely ladylike. "Perhaps you'd like to see the schoolhouse," she said.

   "Really a converted shed," said Aaron. "It serves the turn, considering how few..." Candy gave him a look that stopped him, and added his name to Jason's as part of her vow.

   Unfortunately for her, and surprisingly for everyone, the schoolhouse, or what served as such, was empty. The pupils had evidently been dismissed very early; the last of them ran past them as they walked up. Candy searched for her siblings Molly and Christopher, but they were not in sight.

   They met the schoolmistress stamping out with an armload of books. She was brown and tall and bony, and Jason and Aaron had always been a little afraid of her. "Mornin', Miss Kat," said Jason tentatively. "School in recess, is it?" Subjected to her glare, he felt compelled to explain himself. "Schoolhouse bein' empty, we naturally wondered..."

   "Recess!" Miss Kat repeated, in a voice that would shiver crystal. Candy felt that her manner did not bode well. Miss Kat thrust the books into Jason's arms. "Yes," she said crisply, "school is in recess for the day. In fact, it is in recess permanently. I herewith serve notice, put paid to my account, turn my back a last time on this mouldering outbuilding and its horrid little inhabitants...in short, Mr. Bolt, I quit."

   Jason was too much surprised to answer. The assemblymen were listening pop-eyed. Candy, more in distress than ever, tried to put a good face on the situation. "Surely," she began, "there's no problem that..."

   "You!" shrilled Miss Kat. "You of all people inquire whether there is a problem!"

   "Yes?" said Candy, in a small voice.

   "Once I am gone, there will be no problem. And shall I tell you why? I shall. Because I shall hie me to a place where there are no Pruitts...where I shall never hear the name Pruitt again...where the name Pruitt is a faint echo from a happily forgotten past. The problem, Miss Pruitt? The problem, and the reason above all others why it is unthinkable to me to contemplate remaining in these environs another day, is the impossibility of instructing, edifying, or otherwise improving the condition of one particularly horrid small creature by name Pruitt."

   Now that Candy understood a little, she felt some sympathy. "I know Christopher can be a handful. At that age..."

   "Christopher!" Miss Kat shrieked again. Really, Candy thought, she needn't be so dramatic. "Not Christopher...though he is torment enough, as you say." I didn't say that, Candy thought. "It's the other one...that one," she said pointing. They all turned to see Molly peering out from the corner of the schoolhouse.

   "Molly!" Candy was astonished. "What's Molly done?"

   "What has she not done?" Candy looked at Molly, who lowered her eyes. "I shall show you." Miss Kat tramped back into the building and came out in a moment with another book. The hand holding it was gloved in a handkerchief. The cover of the book looked strangely shiny. "Most lately," said Miss Kat, "she has done this." She shoved the book into Aaron's hands. He pulled one of them away at once, and part of the cover...so it appeared...pulled away with it. "It's covered in honey!" he cried. He spent the next several minutes detaching himself from it, his hands from each other, and the residue from his hands, ruining his own handkerchief in the process.

   "It is the town's property," Miss Kat declared, "and the town is welcome to it. As for that child"...she pointed wildly at Molly..."if you take my advice, you will lock her away until she is no longer a child...until she is well past middle age...until she is so far into her dotage that she is incapable of working harm on any other living creature!" She started off, then turned back. "You may send my final wages to an address I shall designate by wire after I am settled. Good day."

   Molly waited until she was well gone before coming out of hiding. "Imagine," said Candy, for the visitors' benefit, "being so upset over one little book."

   "Yes, she was." Jason's eyes were still on Molly. A small twinkle in them belied the sternness of his countenance. "Now why might that be, Molly-o?"

   "Guess I haven't been too nice," Molly said.

   Jason asked for the particulars. "First," she said, "there was the frog. Then the snake..."

   "Molly Serenity Pruitt!" Candy exclaimed.

   "It wasn't poisonous," the girl protested. "Next came the honey-bees, and then..."

   "The honey," Aaron guessed.

   A thought struck Jason. "How'd you know where to look for honey-bees?"

   "Jason, that's hardly the point," said Candy. "Molly, why?"

   "That old Miss Kat hates me. And I hate her!"

   "But, Molly dear," said Candy, with a glance at the two men from the capital, "you know you love school..."

   "I don't!" Molly cried. "I hate it! School is nothing but a torment and a vexation! I hope I never have go to school ever ever again!" With that she ran away.

   Normally Candy would have gone after her, but the present business was even more important. "Gentlemen," she began, "I assure you..."

   Dodge nudged Clipp. "Eat," he whispered.

   "I believe," said Clipp, "we have seen enough. Have we not, Mr. Dodge?"

   "Indeed yes."

   "Oh, but..."

   "If you could direct us to your finest dining establishment...I believe it was understood that meals are to be provided?"

   "How many meals?" asked Aaron. He was rubbing his fingers against one another. They were still sticky.

   "Lunch, supper, and a small breakfast before our departure tomorrow, I believe will be adequate for our needs."

   "But if you've seen all you came to see..."

   Candy interrupted. "That's wonderful. We'll have an opportunity to show you the cultural and intellectual life of the community."

   "Candy..." Jason began.

   "No need, madam. As I said, we have seen enough. There is no doubt in my mind"...he hesitated..."but I must not speak for my colleague. Is there any doubt in your mind, Mr. Dodge?"

   "None whatever, Mr. Clipp."

   "No doubt...and I tell you this in the strictest confidence, you understand...that Seattle is the only proper setting for the great University of Washington. We shall return to our colleagues and advise them so."

   Jason and Aaron looked at each other in disbelief. Candy let out a yelp of excitement, then quickly excused herself and made to lead the way to Lottie's. "Mister Dodge," said Clipp, extending his arm as an invitation to his partner to precede him. "Mister Clipp," said Dodge, doing the same. Clipp bowed his head and took first place after Candy.

   "Mister Stempel," said Jason, extending his arm. "Mister Bolt," said Aaron. They went side by side.

   Adams was delighted when Candy brought him the news. "I knew it," he said, clasping her hands.

   "I knew it," said Aaron, skimming over the new act. The packet containing it had been mailed to him as chairman of the town council, and he had summoned Jason at once. "They don't want a university. They've set up conditions that are impossible."

   "Such as?"

   Aaron picked up the document again. "'The town shall be responsible for providing ten acres of suitable ground'...at our own expense!"

   "Come on, forget about profit for once." Jason punched him on the shoulder encouragingly.

   Aaron regarded him with narrowed eyes for a moment before continuing. "And here...'The town shall be responsible for providing the necessary facilities'...they'll pay for it, but we have to build it ourselves."

   "Not scared of a little hard work, are you?" Jason punched him on the shoulder again.

   "Stop doing that," said Aaron. Jason put his hands behind his back. "It establishes a board of commissioners," Aaron went on, "and names Adams president. But 'The town shall be responsible'...mighty responsible people they account us...'for all other appointments.' We do the hiring. That's all right though, the territory pays their salaries."

   "Well, then!" Jason started to punch him again, then remembered himself.

    "And the whole enterprise has to be ready for business in three months."

   "Three months!" Jason grabbed the document to see for himself. "It'll take all of that."

   "It's a charade. They don't expect us to meet the requirements. We may as well tear that thing up."

   Jason was not far from disagreeing. "But for one thing."

   "What's that?" asked Aaron.

   "You most certainly will not tear it up," said Candy, when they had called her in to the town hall (Lottie's backroom) and broached the suggestion to her. "Goodness, a body would think you'd never done anything. You built the dormitory in one night, didn't you?"

   "That..." Aaron began.

   "I can't believe you have so little civic pride. Don't you feel an obligation to the children of this town? Don't you want them to grow up to be educated citizens?" Aaron looked at Jason. "Why don't one of you say something?"

   "This..."

   "Maybe you don't think we're good enough for a university. Maybe you think we should play second fiddle to Tacoma or Steilacoom. That your neighbors and business associates...the people who voted you into office...are too backward to deserve..."

   "All right!" said Aaron. "We'll do it...somehow."

   "Well, I should just think so." Candy nodded curtly and walked out.

   Aaron and Jason followed. "You sailed around the Horn with her, huh?" said Aaron. Jason nodded woefully. "What kept you from bailing her over the side?"

   "Force of will," Jason said with emphasis as they came out into the saloon.

   Candy, not yet out of hearing, turned back. "What was that?"

   "I said, 'course we will," Jason said reassuringly. "Build the school and all."

   As he and Aaron went out, Candy stared after them, a small suspicion dancing on her face.

   "It's still impossible," Aaron insisted as he and Jason were walking back to the mill.

   "Nothing's..."

   "I know." Aaron upraised his hands. "'If it's women you want...' The mighty Jason can perform any feat he puts his mind to."

   "Well?" Aaron rolled his eyes. "I admit it sounds a tall order, heaped up like that. But take it one log at a time. Labor..." He gestured toward the mill. "Got all we need."

   "Yes, laboring. We have a timber operation, remember?"

   "We can cut it back so we just break even."

   Aaron made a noise. "I really don't like this."

   "Think in the long term, Aaron. A university will bring the town prestige...bring in scholars, thinkers, inventors. They're the ones who'll revolutionize the business. What's a gleam in the eye today, tomorrow..."

   "Will be a hundred more Candy Pruitts causing us headaches."

   "Materials," said Jason, continuing his train of thought, "well..." He gestured toward the hills. "Paint, we'll order from Victoria."

   "Victoria?" Aaron was already calculating the cost.

   "All that's missing is the land. Now who do we know that has more property than he knows what to do with?" He put on an expression of deep cogitation.

   Aaron started to think it over too, then a moment later, "Oh, no," he said, "you're not getting me to...I develop my holdings in the best interests of the community."

   "And Aaron Stempel."

   Aaron was about to continue his protest when a recollection came to him. "There is a stretch you can have. Never did anything with it."

   "What stretch?"

   "South end of town, west of the lake."

   "That swamp?"

   Aaron thought a moment. "Oh, yeah. Guess that's why I never..." Jason was watching him skeptically. He thought some more. "There is one other place."

   Within a half-hour they were standing atop one of the prettiest hills overlooking the town. Jason pronounced it sublime. "Why haven't you built here?" he asked.

   "Saving it in case I ever got..." He stopped himself, then said, more briskly, "You're right...for once. Time'll come when a man'll have to go to university to establish himself. We should be prepared. I'm willing to make my small contribution." He looked around. "And I wouldn't mind a cornerstone with my name on it, here." He polished the imaginary stone and stood back regarding it with approval.

   Jason watched him with his arms folded and a half-smile on his face. "Very fitting. The boys can pitch pennies against it."

   "All right," said Aaron, returning to earth, "never mind."

   "It's settled then. We build a university."

   Now it was Aaron's turn to smile. "Correct me if I'm mistaken...won't we need a builder?" The question took Jason by surprise. He had in fact overlooked that detail.

   That afternoon as Aaron was going over the books a roll of plans dropped onto the desk. He looked up to find Jason helping himself to the seat opposite. "What are these?" asked Aaron.

   "Plans," Jason said carelessly.

   "Plans to what?"

   "University."

   Aaron was suspicious. "Where'd you get them?"

   "Architect."

   "What architect?"

   "One who drew up the plans."

   "I know he..." Exasperated, he gave up and unrolled them to take a look.

   "Had these hangin' about, didn't mind seein' 'em put to use."

   Aaron studied the drawing in puzzlement until he saw the legend in the corner. "These are for a bath house!"

   "He did say they'd require a few modifications."

   Aaron rolled them up again. "The pupils will be clean anyway," he sighed. He handed them back. In exchange, Jason handed him a set of folded papers.

   "What are these?"

   "Agreement with the architect, agreement with the builder."

   "What builder?"

   "One who signed the agreement."

   Aaron unfolded the papers and flipped to the last page. "This is my signature!" He went back to page one, where he found part of a line crossed out and other words scrawled above it. "Wait a minute, this is the agreement for the opera house."

   "Changed it to the university. Same terms."

   "How can it be the same terms? They can't build a university for the same price as..."

   "It'll only be one building...few classrooms, offices. We'll add on to it later."

   "The famous one-horse university," Aaron mused. Then another concern pushed that thought to the rear. "They haven't started on the opera house yet. What happens to that?"

   "We'll take it up when the university's finished."

   Aaron sat back in his chair and pressed his temples. "That was the brainchild of the Ladies' League. They won't like this."

   "Which would you rather face, Aaron...a disappointed Ladies' League or a disgruntled Candy Pruitt?"

   Aaron considered for half a second. "The League."

   So work began. The builder of the opera house-to-be blandly turned his energies to the new project. Half the able-bodied men in town offered their services...or rather the council, in Jason's person, offered for them, but nobody appeared to mind. In lieu of cash they were to be paid in land the territory had granted, not to build on but to sell or barter to finance the construction. Overnight, it seemed, the crest of the hill was covered with men, ox-carts, wheelbarrows, and ropes; frantic with hauling, digging, pouring, laying, piling. Loads went up and came down starting at dawn and ending well after dusk. Every time Jason looked, a little more had been done. The builder promised he would meet the deadline or pay a forfeit, the crew was hard at work, everything was proceeding perfectly...

   "But who'll take over for Miss Kat?" asked Candy.

   Jason was pushing a barrowload of hod, with Candy almost at his heels. "Soon as this is done..."

   "That won't be for months. The children can't go without that long."

   "They can't?"

   "Jason! We're trying to teach them the importance of an education. What will they think if we let them neglect their studies half the year?"

   "Think themselves lucky?"

   "Exactly...and we can't have that." The sentiment was not phrased as positively as she would have liked. "You'll have to find a new teacher."

   "I'll put it to the council."

   "And who'll take over in the meantime?"

   She was like a woodpecker, Jason thought, pecking, pecking... "Haven't an inkling. Who?" Candy stared at him. "Who?" She kept staring. He said a third time, in a weaker voice, "Who?"

   "Children," the substitute teacher announced, "my name's Jason Bolt. Looks like I'll be teachin' you for a spell." He looked at the jumble of books on the desk. They gave no hint of where to begin. "What do you usually take up first?" he asked the class.

   "Geography," someone said.

   "Geography...." He sorted through the books until he found the geography text. He opened it at random and scanned a sentence or two. It was a mass of grey type...no life to it at all. He came around to the front of the desk and stared into the eyes of one especially big-eyed girl in the front row. "That puts me in mind of a story...."

   Aaron and Candy stopped by not soon after. Aaron had not believed the announcement that Jason had taken over as schoolteacher and had come to see for himself. The two of them listened from the door. "...and that fella plowed so hard," Jason was telling his fascinated audience, "he dug right through to a water spout that was sittin' under his field waitin' to be let free, like a genie in a bottle. The water come shootin' out so fast nobody could stop it, and it spread farther than far...and that's how we got Puget Sound." He tossed the book down. "So much for geography." He rubbed his hands together. "What's next?"

   Aaron looked skeptically at Candy. She made a face to match the "Hmph" sound she felt like making.

   The next day the children had a new substitute teacher. Aaron and Candy were back at the door. This one chose to start with arithmetic. "Numbers are a lot more exciting than most people realize," said Joshua Bolt. By the time he had filled the blackboard with computations and the children's heads with explanations that were as hard to follow as the trail of a jackrabbit, only nowhere near as interesting, the class had sunk into a half-napping state.

   Candy realized that this would not do either. She stared at Aaron, and stared, and stared...

   "Uh," Aaron began, looking out at the dozen pairs of little eyes trained on him, "uh"...what was it he'd meant to say?..."uh...." Candy could take it no longer. "Children," she announced from the door, "you're on holiday until we find a teacher." They cheered and made their escape. Candy looked pityingly at Aaron.

   "Haven't spent much time around children," he said.

   "A person would never guess," she said. She patted his arm. "Don't worry, you're sure to find someone."

   "Why not Candy?" was Joshua's question. He and Jason were sharing a beer at Lottie's before heading home.

   "The lady declines," said Jason. "Says she's too much on her hands, with two siblings and a hundred brides...less those lost to the bonnie blue bliss of marriage..."

   Joshua shook his head. "What we need's another Miss Essie."

   "There you have it," Jason agreed. "If she hadn't gone off and married Swede..."

   "And divorced Swede."

   "Ain't that the way of a woman? Left a perfectly respectable callin' to..." He stopped and looked at his brother. "Who's divorced?"

   "Thought you'da heard. Swede and Miss Essie split up. Been nearly a year now."

   "That's wonderful!" Jason thundered. Joshua stared at him. "I mean...tragic thing, tragic," he said, in a suitably tragic tone. "But ain't it fate's own perfection?" Joshua could tell he was already building a plan in his mind.

   "Jason, she's settled."

   "Not any more."

   "With or without Swede, she's made a new life. How you gonna talk her into comin' back?"

   Jason bestowed a look of pity on his unbelieving brother. "I'll have her eatin' outa my hand."

   "No," said Miss Essie. Upon Jason's unexpected arrival in Steilacoom, she had served notice that he would have to put up with her housecleaning while they talked. Not that she wasn't glad to see him, she added. But throughout the conversation he repeatedly found himself standing exactly where she had to dust. Being continually brushed aside hampered his persuasive skill. So did Essie's evident imperviousness: she had toughened since leaving Seattle.

   "Hear me out," he said.

   "No."

   "It's a once-in-a-lifetime..."

   "No."

   Jason became exasperated. "You don't even know what I'm askin'!"

   Essie stopped and faced him. "I have a pretty nice idea. It's to do with the new university, hasn't it?" His amazement pleased her. "I know all the details," she said. "You see, Steilacoom put in a bid too."

   Remembering Adams's account, Jason bet that there were a few details she didn't know, and just as well. "You have to admit Seattle's the better choice," he said.

   Essie sighed. "You're so provincial."

   "And you, Miss Essie..." He sank to his knees before her. She slipped around him to dust in the corner. "You," he continued, sliding around so he could continue to face her, "are the answer to our prayers."

   Essie smiled despite herself. "Jason!"

   "The whole town's pinin' for you...yearnin' for you..."

   "They are not."

   "...holdin' their quiverin' breath for you to bring the lamp of learning to our dark little vale."

   "No," she repeated, slipping past him again, "a thousand times no."

   "Very well," Jason grunted, getting to his feet. "I'll tell Reverend Adams..."

   Essie swung around. "Reverend Adams?" A glow poured over her face. "Harvey?"

   "Adams?" said Aaron when he heard the story. He was checking the pump on the mill jetty, where Jason had found him upon his return.

   "Gospel truth," said Jason. "Once she heard his name she was dyin' to come. Be here soon's they find someone to take over the school in Steilacoom."

   "Nothing against the good Reverend," said Aaron, "but I never imagined him as a man women would..." He considered. "Of course, Miss Essie..."

   "Now," Jason chided, "Miss Essie's a very intelligent woman."

   "Yeah." Aaron nodded, uncomprehending.

   The news of Essie's return was cause for rejoicing in all quarters except one. Molly had hoped against hope that they would never find a teacher, that Candy could teach her and her brother at the dormitory. To lock horns with another Miss Kat was something that she, in spite of all her youthful energy, lacked the spirit for. The teachers back in New Bedford hadn't been so bad, or if they had she hadn't noticed. But things had been different then, and she was older now.

   Her friend Lorena kept silent as Molly catalogued Miss Kat's faults at length. The two of them were climbing the rise to the building site, where Lorena's father was working. She was bringing him a lunch of chicken and biscuits she had prepared.

   "Hope they never find a teacher," said Molly, having exhausted all the bad things she could say about her last one. "All they do's get mad at you...talk about a lot of nothing while you're trying to think about something else...then when you do ask a question, yell at you to keep still...then when you don't, stand you in a corner." She stood by her earlier judgment. "It's a pure vexation."

   "Yeah," said Lorena wistfully, hopping over a stone in the path, "but leastways you get to go." She had stopped attending before Molly moved to town; Molly had always wondered why. "Since Ma died of the fever, Pa's needed me at home. I liked goin' to school...learnin' things."

   "You're lucky," said Molly. Lorena smiled sadly.

   They had reached the top of the rise. Lorena looked around for her father and spotted him resting against a barrel. "Pa!" she shouted. She ran toward him.

   Balter turned. He did not smile to see her, as she had expected, but instead looked up in alarm at the partial wall above her. He ran over and grabbed her up, seconds before the timbers came crashing down on the basket she had been carrying. "Honey," he said, "you ought not to be here. Place like this can be real dangerous for little girls."

   She pointed to the crushed basket. "But I brought you lunch."

   "I don't care. You gotta promise me you won't come up here again."

   "I promise." They reached Molly, still standing at the edge of the clearing. "You know my friend Molly?"

   Balter said hello. "Good thing you stayed outa harm's way." Molly was staring at him in a way that made him uncomfortable. "You two best go home." He put Lorena down and walked her to the top of the path. Molly went with them, still staring.

   The reason was that she was sure his warning had come before the wall had begun to collapse; as if he had known it would happen. I must be wrong, she told herself all the way downhill. I won't say anything unless I'm sure.

   Her dread of a new teacher took solid shape three weeks later when Miss Essie arrived. Molly took in her prim, alert expression, her carpetbag, her trunks (full of schoolbooks, Molly bet), her parasol and other paraphernalia, and concluded that she was going to hate her. "I think she looks nice," said Lorena.

   "You'll see," said Molly, "she'll be just like Miss Kat."

   She was not expecting the change that came over Essie when the Reverend appeared to meet her. Her primness melted like ice on a stove.

   "Estelle," he said.

   "Harvey," she said.

   They had kept company once, very many years ago; yet now it seemed not long at all. He hurried to pick up her bags and offered to board her at the small rectory behind the church until she could find nicer lodgings. "I suppose you wouldn't care to," he said. "Cramped quarters...and I daresay people would talk."

   "You and I are old enough to pay no mind to what other people say." Her face blossomed in a radiant smile. "I would love to stay at the rectory." Adams flushed. He wore a big smile himself as he carried her things across to the church.

   Molly watched them curiously. Her opinion of Essie had not improved, but it had become less certain. She is like Miss Kat, she is, she is, Molly insisted to herself.

   So when Essie visited the schoolhouse that afternoon...what memories it brought back!...she heard a succession of little clicking sounds from inside. She hoped it wasn't some of the boys vandalizing the premises; she'd have hated to think that ill of them. Instead she found a pretty, freckled little blonde girl, determined to keep up her hatred of school and schoolteachers at all costs, and proving it by breaking every piece of chalk from the box on the desk.

   Essie watched for a minute before speaking. "Thank you for your assistance," she said, "but it wasn't really necessary. Chalk breaks perfectly well on its own." Molly threw down the pieces in her hands and ran out. Essie looked after her wonderingly.

   Then she noticed the chalk drawings...good, carefully detailed drawings of birds and woodland animals. She stepped up for a closer look.

   A little later she came upon Molly sitting by the creek, sulking. "May I join you?" she asked. Molly gave her one of those half-bruised, half-defiant looks in which some children became expert when they reached adolescence. "I'm Miss Essie. I'll be your new teacher." She extended her hand.

   Molly looked away. "I know." Miss Essie waited. Molly was too well brought up to forget all her manners, even in her great travail. "Molly Pruitt," she said, shaking Essie's hand.

   "You're Candy's sister, aren't you?" Molly nodded. She continued looking out over the creek.

   "I don't like school," she said at length. "Or teachers."

   "You're not required to. I'm not required to like all my students either. And I don't like some of them very much at all." She studied Molly. "But I think I like you...although you're deliberately making it difficult. And I can't help wondering why."

   "Because of my willful and obstinate nature, I suppose." She put on an appropriately obstinate expression.

   "Did you draw those pictures on the blackboard?"

   "Sorry." Despite herself, Molly was already softening toward her. "Want me to wipe 'em off?"

   "Of course not. They're lovely."

   "Miss Kat always did. Then she'd set me extra lessons for using the board without permission and making the room untidy."

   Essie was shocked. "That was rather mean of her."

   Molly turned to her in earnest concern. "Oh, Miss Essie, she was right. I have an idle nature and have been used to too much liberty."

   "Is that what she said?"

   "I was always causing her trouble. That's why we'd have fights. Every day at recess I'd come down here to watch the creatures and make pictures of them, and then I'd forget about school and she'd have to come and fetch me back. She'd tear up the pictures in front of the class..."

   "She did what?" Essie was simmering.

   "...and set me extra lessons or stand me in the corner. And some days I'd spend drawing in my notebook instead of doing my lesson...just pure idleness that somebody ought to take out of me with a whip so as to teach me not to squander my time on such impractical foolishness. Miss Kat said I was no smarter than one of those birds myself."

   "Ohhhhhhhhh!" Essie stood, unable to sit still any longer. Her face was so livid, it scared Molly to see it. "These people we set loose on our children to misguide them! You listen to me, Molly." Molly prepared to be bawled out. "There is no subject on God's green earth that is not deserving of study. And the creatures He placed here to share it with us are the worthiest of all. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. And just because you have a gift for seeing them as no one else does...never let anyone tell you that you are one whit worse than they because you know things they don't." She grabbed her hand. "Come with me."

   She took Molly back to the classroom and opened the carpetbag she had brought with her to reveal a small library inside. She lifted out a big green leather-bound volume. Molly was amazed at what it contained: not columns of print or math problems but beautiful paintings of birds. "One of my most prized possessions," said Essie. "The first volume of Birds of America by Mr. John James Audubon. I mean to collect the entire set." Molly pored over every detail of the pictures, and soon came to one she recognized. "The pine thrush," Essie confirmed, consulting the text. "'Native to the northern territories.'" Molly could scarcely believe it. "Mr. Audubon," Essie explained, "spent years traveling from place to place observing the wild birds and painting what he saw."

   "Do you think that some day I could..." She was too shy to finish.

   "I see no reason in the world why not. And you pay no mind to what that horrible woman told you. Oh, if I had her here..."

   Molly loved the good, warm feeling she had talking to her new friend and did not like to risk spoiling it, but she had to own up to the truth. "I did neglect my lessons."

   "Because she compelled you to choose between her way of learning and the learning you were doing all on your own. You and I must find a way to balance both."

   "I was wicked, though," said Molly. "I brought honey-bees to class..."

    "A perfectly legitimate lesson in natural history."

   "And I put honey in her book."

   "In your place," said Miss Essie, "I think I would have poured it over her head."

   The two of them laughed...how they laughed! And that was why, after leaving Essie and running back to the dormitory, Molly came bounding into the kitchen to ask Candy, "When will school start again?" When Candy said she was afraid it might be as soon as the following week, Molly shouted, "I can't wait!" and ran out happily to find Lorena and tell her. Will wonders never cease?" Candy thought.

   Despite everyone's efforts...and everyone was pulling his weight, and then some...the work fell behind, on account of the mishaps that continued to plague it. No more walls toppled; these were unthreatening but time-devouring hindrances...a piece of ground that sank, taking one corner with it; a batch of mortar that failed to harden and had to be redone; a window whose sides were joined at a skew, as if the plans had been tampered with; one setback after another.

   With only three weeks left, the builder told Jason he could not finish in time. "Unless we work around the clock," he said, "and gain more hands." He pointed out that with each accident the crew had shrunk by a few more, almost always men from the mountain: loggers were notoriously superstitious, and once they had got the notion in their heads that the project had a hoodoo on it, only Hercules himself could have brought them back.

   "Hoodoo," Jason repeated in disgust.

   "Tell you," the builder said, "put it as a question, I'd be disposed to agree with 'em."

   Jason said it over. "Who...do?" He saw at once that the builder was right: there had been too many "accidents" in one short span. Someone didn't want the building to be finished on time. Jason thought at once of two likely candidates. The conditions of the act were clear: if the town failed to fulfill its obligations, it forfeited the university.

   He looked around for Joshua and found him sitting in the half-bricked arch of the entrance. Joshua was staring into the unfinished interior as if he saw it whole, and full of scholars. Jason came and sat beside him and told him the news. "Want me to break it to the Reverend?" asked Joshua.

   Jason had not thought of it before, but his look of relief gave the answer. "You'll make a better job of it," said Jason. "After all, you..." Then he stopped suddenly. His face was full of remorse.

   Joshua knew what was on his mind. "You ever want to be a scholar?" he asked.

   "Josh..."

   "But did you?"

   "Doubt I could sit still that long," Jason said honestly. There was a silence. For once he was unsure what to say next or whether to say anything at all. Finally he said, as softly as he could, "In all this fuss, I never once thought how you might feel. I ought to have. No excuse." What came next was obviously difficult. "I know how bad you wanted to go away to college. Knew then...you never said, but I knew. Knew how you ached when I had to tell you no. It just wasn't possible. Maybe I shoulda made it possible. I don't know." He was starting to ramble.

   In the few seconds he had been speaking, Joshua had experienced a swift recapitulation of all the feelings he had had at the time. But it was over now. "Forget it," he said. "Probably woulda flunked out anyway." He got up and patted his brother on the shoulder. "I'll go see Adams."

   The church window glowed in the blue of the evening. Joshua entered quietly. He found a single worshipper kneeling at the altar: the Reverend himself. He was praying aloud. Joshua started to leave, but when he heard the first words he found himself fixed where he stood, and straining to hear more.

   "I know I am not a man of strength," Adams was saying, "and You have seen fit to place me among those who are. I know little of the world, and I must work daily with those who have seen much of it. I am blessed with a devout congregation. Although the men from the mountain do not keep the Sabbath as regularly as I could wish"...Joshua smiled to himself..."yet I feel sure that, living and working as they do among Your wonders, they must come to know You in time, after their own fashion. For them, and for myself, I thank You for the great seat of learning"...that's pushing it a bit, Joshua thought..."which we shall soon consecrate in Your name. Since leaving the seminary I have seldom spoken to an educated man...a man who recognizes the names of Herodotus and Aquinas and Milton, who knows why the Battle of Hastings was fought and who painted the Sistine Chapel. I know it is selfish, but I look forward to being again in the company of such men...to hear them talk as I could never do...such wonderful talk! And now You have permitted our children the chance of joining their company. You know I have lived an austere life. I do not presume to challenge or change Your great design. I only ask that, if it accords with Your will, I may live to see our university complete and glorious. I ask for nothing else. Amen."

   He made to rise. Joshua quickly left.

   "We have to finish," he told Jason when he got back. "The town needs the university...if not now, then some day."

   "The Reverend converted you."

   Joshua shook his head. "He was busy talking to someone." Jason looked unconvinced. "I'm right, Jason. I am."

   Far from disagreeing with him, Jason was thinking that that was no more than he had said himself. But it didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was that Joshua wanted this, wanted it badly. "I couldn't send you to university," said Jason, "by God I'll bring the university to you! And there's only one way."

   "Shut down the mill!" Aaron shouted. Jason had called an emergency meeting of the town council the next morning to propose his scheme.

   "And the camp. To finish the job, we'll need the help of every man, woman, and child."

   "No, ya don't," said Balter. "My Lorena nearly got kilt up there. You bring in a buncha kids, who knows what might happen?"

   "Anything does, I'll hold you personally responsible."

   Balter got to his feet. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

   "It means we're in this together. Everyone has to do his part...Bolt men, Stempel men, brides, children, old folks, the halt and the lame, come one come all, workin' in shifts twenty-four hours a day. There'll be a multitude at hand no matter what the hour. That should prevent any more 'accidents'."

   "That's good," said Balter, with too much heartiness. "That's what we need."

   Everyone was assembled at the site: all the groups Jason had named and more. It was rumored that he had summoned up a few spirits from the cemetery to swell the numbers. He began to speak, and although afterward nobody could remember for the life of him what he had said, by the time he was done they were ready to fight Bismarck himself to get that university built. So they commenced work on the twenty-four-hour schedule the builder had deemed imperative, everyone who could push a barrow or carry a pail (and some who could not), and steadily, unstoppably, miraculously...and exhaustingly...the university came into being.

   The day before the opening ceremonies, Jason made his one big mistake. It did not affect the condition of the school...other than robbing it of its only teacher...yet he should have known better; both his brothers had warned him. But when the letter came for Mrs. Olaf Gustafson from Mr. Olaf Gustafson, Jason could not help considering it his duty to read it, and when he saw that it was, as he had anticipated, a plea for her to come back (once one had glimpsed the meaning behind the thicket of peculiar spellings and grammatical constructions) he could not help considering it prudent to delay the letter's receipt until the university and its subsidiary school were well under way.

   Unfortunately, while it was still in his hand, Miss Essie buttonholed him in the street to discuss the school curriculum. He kept the letter behind his back and shifted it from hand to hand to keep her from seeing it, but in the way such things happen it eventually fell to the ground and she picked it up and saw her name. "What does this mean?" she asked sharply.

   "It's a letter..."

   "I see what it is," she said. "What I wish to know is why, being addressed to me, it should be in your possession."

   Jason made an expansive gesture. "Do the whys and wherefores matter?"

   "They do to me," she said soberly. "They matter very much."

   "I...didn't think it would help you to see it just now."

   "You didn't think! You took it upon yourself to read my personal correspondence, and hide it from me! Are you aware that it is a crime to tamper with the mails? And more," she continued before he could answer, "it is a violation of my privacy, my dignity, and my trust. I have recently terminated a...a personal contract of long standing with a pig-headed male who thought he knew better than I what I ought to do. 'You stay at home, Essie. Do what I tell you, Essie. I don't like you goin' around by yourself where I can't look out for you. Ain't the home I built good enough for you that you got to be goin' out all the time?' She put on a very fair Swedish accent, Jason thought. "Now I find myself dealing with another male who treats my feelings and my wishes as if they were...as if they were..."

   "Chaff on the wind," Jason suggested.

   For some reason that raised Essie's anger to a new pitch. "Where is my salary?" she demanded. The council had cut back classes to two a week so the children could help with the university, but classes there had been and Essie had taught them.

   "We had an agreement," said Jason. "You remember, you agreed to defer your salary until..."

   "Precisely," she said, the word cutting like a knife. "I took the job on faith. Faith that there would be a university, faith that my services would be required, faith that I should receive what was due me in good time. Now I see my faith was ill-placed, I must insist on being paid in full immediately."

   "You must see I can't do that. All we got's tied up in the building..."

   "In that case," she said, straightening, "I have no alternative but to tender my resignation."

   "Miss Essie!"

   "I shall return to Steilacoom by the next available steamer." She strode off, leaving Jason to contemplate his sins.

   Before she had reached the rectory, she thought of Harvey. She would regret having to leave him, regretted having let her feelings get the better of her, but she couldn't very well change her stand now. And anyway Harvey wasn't above imposing his opinion on hers either...although in the weeks they had been keeping company together he had shown a disappointing lack of forthrightness in the one matter where it would have been welcome. Men! she thought.

   Adams found her in the middle of such reflections as these, packing her things. "Jason said you're leaving," he said. "Are you, Estelle?"

   "Do you not want me to?" she said, not looking at him.

   He looked confused. "Is that very practical?"

   "I suppose you know better than I as well." These men! "What do you mean, not practical?"

   "Only that if you leave, I don't see how it's to be managed. For the life of me I don't."

   "The school, you mean?"

   "No, not the school." He took her hand gingerly. "I was thinking of a more personal matter."

   She looked up at him. "Were you, Harvey?"

   He took her other hand too. "Estelle, do you recall the words of Mr. Shakespeare? 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.' Let us two admit no impediments."

   "Walter!"

   "Estelle!"

   They joined lips.

   Seattle had wired the Honorables Clipp and Dodge inviting them to the opening ceremonies, but no wire had come in reply up to the day of the event. An hour before the starting time, it arrived. Molly, who had been deputed to stand by the telegraph, ran the paper up the hill to Jason, who quickly read it, then slowly carried it with him to the front steps of the building, from which he addressed the assembly, reluctantly.

   "Appears there's been a misunderstanding," he said. "This is from the clerk of the territorial assembly. Says the choice of Seattle for the university was only provisional..."

   "What?" Aaron blurted out.

   "...and they haven't made their final decision yet. Says the name Seattle wasn't mentioned in the act. That so, Aaron?"

   Aaron thought a bit. "It's so. I hadn't seen it before." That meant that the territory could not be counted on to make the repayments of money and land the town had been counting on. In other words, Seattle was broke. "So, technically..." Jason began.

   "We done all this for nothin'!" a man shouted. Others loudly voiced agreement.

   "But we got a fine new schoolhouse."

   "And no teacher!" Word of Essie's quarrel with Jason, although not of subsequent events, had spread to the whole town.

   "Not at present, no." The crowd moaned and started to crumble away. "I'm workin' on it." Nobody took any notice. "Trust me!" he said to their backs.

   "I trust you, Jason." He turned. The voice was Adams's. He and Essie had reached the top of the rise just in time to meet the rest of the town going the other way. They approached Jason arm in arm. "I've managed to persuade Estelle to stay in spite of you. But then it would hardly be fitting for a married couple to..."

   "Married? When?"

   "Last night. The service was performed by a colleague of mine in Snohomish." He smiled at Essie. "Couldn't very well risk her slipping away again."

   Jason started to kiss the bride, then hesitated, remembering their previous meeting. Essie stepped up and kissed him instead. He smiled, gratified. "We'll have us a reception...biggest Seattle ever saw. Fireworks, brass band..."

   The couple glanced at each other. Even when the chips were down, Jason could not help being Jason. It was necessary to bring him back to reality. "There's a more important matter to discuss," said Essie.

   "We know who arranged those 'accidents,'" said Adams.

   There was another person in town who was about to make the same discovery. After the disappointment of Jason's news, Matt Balter had come home to lunch in unaccustomed (and, that day, solitary) high spirits. "Guess what?" he said proudly to Lorena. "When school starts up, you'll be goin' 'long with the rest. I spoke to Miss Essie about it today."

   Lorena stared at him. He had expected her to show more glee at the prospect. But she was a shy girl. He figured she was too much embarrassed to let him see her feelings. Satisfied with that explanation, he sat down to his meal and began chewing heartily. The girl continued staring at him. "Thought you needed me here," she said. "That's why you took me out of school before...wasn't it?"

   "Sure, sure it was," said Balter. "That, and the way they kept raisin' the subscription fee. Main reason I got back on the council to put a stop to it. Not everybody can afford"...he stopped and rephrased it..."cares to spend that kind of money. Don't know yet what the new rate'll be. But whatever it is," he said confidently, "I can pay it. I'm fixed for a good long time." He became aware that she was standing at his side. "What'sa matter? You still wanna go, don'tcha?"

   "Where'd you get the money, Pa?"

   Balter looked away quickly, and there was an interval before he replied. "Did some work for Stempel last fall. Skinflint was slow in payin' up. But I told him nobody cheats Matt Balter. I told him..."

   "Pa? Those two men from Olympia?"

   He froze. "What about 'em?"

   "You were late gettin' home that night. I went looking for you, saw you talking to 'em. What were you talking about?" Balter was looking down at the table. "Did they pay you to do someth..." Her eyes widened. "They did! You're the one that...oh, Pa!"

   Balter turned to her with a pleading look. "Honey, nobody got hurt. You came the closest...'cause you were where you had no business bein'. But that's what they were after...big accidents that would scare folks, make 'em give up on the whole idea. But I couldn't get it outa my head you might go sneakin' up there again, 'spite of what I told you..."

   "I did."

   "There y'are...and I couldn't bear to do anything else that might hurt you." He looked morose. "I didn't follow orders so good. They might ask for their money back." He clenched his fist. "But they ain't gettin' it."

   Lorena was close to tears. "Why, Pa? Why'd you do it?"

   This surprised him. "So's you could go to school like before. That's what you been wantin', ain't it?"

   "Not this way." She climbed onto his lap and put her arms around his neck. "Better I don't go at all than for you to do something shameful. Don't you know that?" She tucked her head under his chin, and Balter stroked her hair. If he had not known before, he did now.

   Jason and the others had moved their conversation inside the building where it would not be overheard. "We know Mr. Balter was behind it," Essie insisted. She was a little vexed by Jason's seeming obtuseness. His sudden fall from grace, she thought, might account for it.

   "But how do you know?" Jason asked. "That's where the skies get cloudy."

   "Something Molly told me."

   "Molly?"

   "She was there when the wall fell. She believes Mr. Balter knew it was going to happen. But she didn't like to make an accusation without proof. Now he's come into money, and with no explanation of where he got it."

   "He's in cahoots with those two scoundrels from the capital!" Adams declared.

   "Maybe, but..." Jason stopped. "I thought you considered them a pair of fine fellows."

   "Jason, I may be a fool, but I'm not all kinds of a fool. We needed a university, they were the people who could deliver it." Jason stared at him in astonishment. Dismiss a man out of hand, he was always apt to rear up and surprise you.

   "And they will," said Essie, "now that we have something to hold over their greedy little heads." The relish in her tone startled him. "All you have to do is trick Mr. Balter into a confession."

   "You won't need any tricks," came Balter's voice. He was standing at the doors with Lorena at his side. He tossed a satchel at Jason's feet. It clanked as it landed. "My thirty pieces of silver," he said.

   Jason picked it up. "You hear that?" he asked.

   "What?" asked Adams. They listened.

   "That ringin'," said Jason. Essie peered up at the ceiling. "Where is it?" he said. "Here? Here?" He held up the money-bag. "No...it's here."

   "What is?" Balter asked suspiciously.

   Jason jingled the coins. "Your redemption."

   Another wire was sent. Three nights later, two men came trudging up the rise to the large building, which stood over the town like a fortress. The two had arrived on the night steamer, which had had only one other passenger, and that one not bound for Seattle, and they kept their eyes open all the way through town and up the hill to make sure they were not seen. They stopped halfway up to catch their breaths.

   "I hope this isn't a..." the stouter one began. The other hushed him. He had heard a rustle in the bushes. A fox scurried out and away. He relaxed. "Not far now," he said. They pressed on.

   The building, barely lit by the crescent moon, had a mysterious aura, like the temple of some ancient oracle. The men felt a chill that was not in the air. The place seemed full of secrets, and they hated secrets not of their own making. The woods at night gave them the creeps anyhow.

   "Hello?" called the smaller one. There was no answer. His eye fell on a bag in the middle of the clearing. Inspecting it, he found it full of coins.

   "What's this?" asked his partner.

   A short, thick-necked figure stepped out from the shadowed front of the building. "I'm returnin' your money," he said. "Don't seem right to keep it, seein' I didn't accomplish what you asked."

   The two looked around. Balter was the only other person in sight. "You would have," said Dodge, "if you'd done as we instructed. Those petty nuisances you engineered wouldn't have discouraged a flea."

   "The first one, though," said Clipp, "where the wall came tumbling down...that was something like."

   "You ought to have gone on in that way," said Dodge.

   "Little girl was nearly hurt." Balter did not mention that she was his own. "Coulda been hurt bad."

   "Just what these yokels need, if you ask me. Couple of fractured limbs, perhaps even a small disfigurement or temporary paralysis. That would've put the fear of God into them. Made them think twice about their precious..." He stopped as he became aware of other figures surrounding them in a wide circle. Dodge, who had seen them first, had tried to shush him, but Clipp had heard nothing but his own voice. The figures stepped forward one at a time, beginning with Jason.

   "Precious what, were you saying?" he asked.

   "Certainly not the university, which both of you are on record as having supported with your votes," said Essie, "if you are, as I assume, members of the territorial assembly." Clipp and Dodge winced at hearing the fact spoken so loudly in the open air.

   "As well as your personal assurance," said Adams.

   "Which I'm sure you'll honor," said Joshua, "now that it's been brought to your attention."

   "Because you'd hate to disappoint a whole town," said Candy.

   "Or have the matter brought before the courts," said Aaron.

    "Seems to me," said Jason, clutching Dodge by the shoulder and bringing his face close, while Balter did the same to Clipp, "you have no choice but to live up to your promise. Doesn't it seem that way to you, Matthew?"

   "Sure does," said Balter. "How 'bout you?" he growled at the helpless Clipp.

   "I...er...apprehend no obstacle in the path of that eventuality," Clipp blustered, then looked uncertainly at Dodge. "Do I?"

   "None whatsoever," said the other. Jason and Balter released their holds. "If you have no further business with us..." Jason made a farewell gesture, and they hurriedly took their leave.

   "This'll teach us one thing," Dodge muttered as they made their way down the hill. "Never try to humbug a Reverend." At his insistence, they did not seek lodging for the night but spent it out on the mill jetty, huddled against the engine shack. They left by the first steamer in the morning, and Seattle never saw them again.

   In due course the opening ceremonies were held a second time, with Aaron presiding. Jason allowed him to cut the ribbon and receive the cheers of the crowd. "Regrettably," said Aaron, "we have no student body yet. But we will offer primary and secondary instruction until our students come of age, at which time we will open admissions to the entire territory." There were more cheers. "Maybe we'll have the other buildings done by then," he added, glancing at Jason. "Now allow me to present the first future graduating class."

   Out the arched doorway paraded Miss Essie and all of her students in their Sunday finest. Last of all, holding hands with Molly, was Lorena Balter, her face beaming. The town council had voted unanimously to waive her subscription fee in return for services performed by her father.

   "Reckon I got a lot of catchin' up to do," she whispered to Miss Essie.

   "We all have," said Essie.

   The crowd cheered again, then mingled, ate, drank, and celebrated generally. Jason excused himself from the festivities to take a longer look at the new structure. It was mighty grand for a little country school, but it would make the beginning of a fine university one day.

   He found Joshua sitting in one of the classrooms. He started to withdraw, but Joshua saw him and waved him in. "Wonderful, isn't it?" he said.

   "But too late for you. That what you're thinking?" Joshua shrugged. "It isn't, you know. We could manage it. There's schools in Portland, San Francisco..."

   "Oh...." Joshua smiled. "Reckon I was cut out to be a lumberman, after all."

   "One thing don't rule out the other. You could be the first college-educated man in the family. Learn new-fangled ways of doin' things. Outsmart your brothers."

   "I do that every day." Joshua grinned slyly at him. Jason tossed a mock-punch. Joshua jumped up, and the two of them sparred for a few seconds till Joshua called a halt.

   "Suppose I was to learn too much?" he said. "And decided I want to be a lawyer or a doctor or...Aaron Stempel!" He laughed. "How would you feel about it then?"

   "Let no man be a slave to his calling," Jason pronounced grandly.

   Joshua thought it over. "Who said that?"

   Jason grinned. "I did, just now. Didn't you hear?"

   "You know something, brother?" said Joshua. "You're an education in yourself." He clapped Jason on the back, and the two of them headed out into the Seattle sunshine.

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