Matt Balter was snoring.
     Across the table, Jason Bolt leaned over and whispered to Aaron Stempel, "Matthew was so eager to get 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 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 and 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, shook their heads slightly, and 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 and 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 and 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 and 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."

Part Two

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