THE WEB WIDENS
"Wherever did you disappear to?" inquired his mother when, hungry but
triumphant, Carl came home. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
"I didn't know you wanted me this morning, Ma," the boy replied, an
afterglow of happiness still on his face.
"I didn't really want you but I wanted to know where you were. I've
asked you time and time again when you go out to tell me where you're
going."
"I wanted to, Mother, but it was such a long story. Last night you were
too busy to hear it; and this morning there was no chance to talk to
you either."
He heard his mother sigh.
"It's a pretty kind of a life I lead if my own children can't get a
minute to talk to me."
"But you are busy, Ma. You know you are."
"I certainly do. Nobody knows it better," replied the woman with a sad
shake of her head.
Carl, sensing the regret in her tone, hastened to say:
"Well, at least the family is not so thick around here now as usual.
Where is everybody?"
"Mary is out with James Frederick; Timmie has gone to the park to
coast; and Martin and Nell are at the day nursery."
"Then we have it all to ourselves."
"For a second or two, yes."
"That's bully!"
Drawing up a kitchen chair he sat down beside his mother.
"It's nice to have them gone sometimes," remarked he. "The kids make
such a racket."
"They'll not always be making it," returned Mrs. McGregor philosophically.
"And anyway, the three of them put together can never equal the
hullabaloo you used to make when you were their age."
"I'm quiet enough now," grinned Carl sheepishly.
"Quiet, you call it, do you? Quiet! And you prancing home from every
ball game with a black eye or else the clothes half torn off you!" She
chuckled mischievously. "But you're not telling me where you've been.
Up to some deviltry, I'll be bound, or you wouldn't be so anxious to
get it off your conscience."
"I haven't been up to any high jinks this time, Ma," protested the lad
soberly. "You'll see when I tell you."
Slowly he related his story while his mother bent over her needle,
spangling with brilliants a gauze of azure hue. She was a wonderful
listener, sympathetic in her intentness.
When the boy had finished her hand wandered to touch his rough sleeve.
"A kind deed is never amiss in the world," observed she briefly. "If we
would but pass on to other folks the kindness people do to us the world
would soon become a pleasanter place. I'm thankful to know Louise has
her job back, or rather that she has a better one. She's a good girl
and deserves it. Besides, with Christmas coming, it would be hard to be
without money."
"And Mr. Coulter--wasn't he great? And wasn't it all funny?"
"Funny is hardly the word; but I'll agree that Mr. Coulter was great.
It is always great for a big man to take on his soul the troubles of
those needier than himself. Well, he's done a good deed this day and
may he be the happier for it. And he will be--never fear! I wonder how
he got wind of the trouble Louise was in? You don't suppose----" She
halted a moment as if suddenly struck by a new thought; then she
laughed and shrugged her shoulders, "Of course it couldn't be--how
ridiculous! Well, anyway, it is splendid everything has come out so
well. And now that you're here, sonny, would you mind fetching some
coal from the shed and starting up the fire for dinner? Mary'll be back
soon and 'twould be a nice surprise for her to find the kettle
boiling."
"So it would!" answered Carl, leaping up to do his mother's bidding.
"I'm not forgetting you'd like to do a bit of coasting or skating
to-day," Mrs. McGregor continued. "If you will fit in a few errands
early in the afternoon I'll let you off at two o'clock for a holiday."
"That will be great, Ma! But--but don't you----"
"It will be all right, sonny. Tim has had his play this morning and he
shall help the rest of the day. Hush a minute! Isn't that Mrs. O'Dowd's
knock? Very like she's up to ask me to run down and see little Katie
who is laid up with a sore throat. Well, I'll go but I won't be long.
Meantime if you can lend Mary a hand dinner will be through the quicker
and you will be off to play the earlier."
Thus it happened that before two o'clock Carl McGregor was one of the
shouting throng of boys that crowded the small pond in Davis Park. Amid
swirling skaters and a confusion of hockey sticks he moved in and out
the thick of the game. So intent was he upon the sport that he might
have continued playing until dark had not a boy at his elbow suddenly
piped:
"There goes Hal Harling! Hi, Hal! Come on down!"
"Harling! Harling!" cried the other boys, taking up the call.
"Come on and play, Hal! You can have Sanderson's skates. He's going
home."
"Can't do it!" laughed the giant, waving his hand.
"Oh, come on, old top!"
"Not to-night, fellers! Got to go home."
"I've got to see Harling!" Carl exclaimed, hurriedly loosening his
skates.
"You're not going, too!"
"Got to. So long! Hold on, Hal! I'm coming with you."
Scrambling up the bank, Carl overtook his friend.
"Hullo, Carlie! What struck you to quit?" asked he unceremoniously.
"Time I was getting home. Besides, I wanted to see you."
A smile passed between them.
"To tell the truth, I hoped I'd spy you somewhere, kid. I've got great
news! Corcoran has been fired! What do you know about that?"
"Corcoran!"
"The old man himself--no other!"
"Jove! Why, I thought you said he'd been at the mills all his life."
"So he has."
"But--but--to fire him now!"
"Well, he hasn't actually been fired," amended young Harling, "but so
far as I'm concerned it amounts to the same thing. He's been
transferred to another department and he isn't to be a boss any more,
poor old chap!"
"But aren't you glad?" questioned Carl with surprise.
"Why, yes, in some ways," returned Hal thoughtfully. "Yes, of course
I'm glad not to have him sarsing the girls and pestering me. Still, I'm
sort of sorry for him."
"_Sorry?_"
Hal nodded.
"But I thought you----"
"I know! I know! I'm not saying he wasn't an awful old screw. But
somehow I don't believe he meant to be so flinty-hearted. You see, he
came and talked to me to-day--talked like a regular human being. You
could have knocked me over. It seems--a funny thing--that kid I picked
up out of the street the other day was his."
"Corcoran's kid!"
"Yep! Can you beat it? Of course I hadn't a notion who the little tike
belonged to; but even if I had I should have done the same thing. You
wouldn't let a kid like that be run over no matter who his father was."
"But--but--Corcoran!" gasped Carl. "How did he know it was you who
rescued his baby?"
"Somebody told him. He said it cut him up terribly because of the way
he'd treated Louise."
"Served him right."
"Maybe! But he was cut up, poor old cuss! You'd have been sorry for him
yourself, if you'd heard him. He isn't all brute by any means. Why,
when he spoke about his little boy----"
"But Louise!"
"I know. It was a low-down trick and he said so himself. But he
declared it was an ill wind that blew nobody good, and he hinted that
maybe in consequence of the trouble she would be better off than if it
hadn't happened."
Carl bit his tongue to keep it silent. How he longed to impart to his
chum the good tidings that would greet him when he reached home! But he
must not spoil Louise's pleasure by telling the story of her good luck
for her.
"Oh, somehow things do seem to come round right if you wait long
enough," mumbled he.
"So mother says," echoed Hal moodily. "But you get almighty sick of
waiting sometimes. Even knowing you were right doesn't put pennies in
your pocket." He laughed with a touch of bitterness.
Again Carl was tempted to break the silence and reveal the wonderful
secret, and again he clamped his lips together.
Hal would hear the tidings soon enough now and his spirits would soar
the higher because of the depths to which they had descended. It was
always so. This broad range of mood was one of his chief charms.
Ah, how well he knew his friend and how accurately did he forecast what
would happen!
It was not five minutes after the two parted at the corner before Hal
Harling came leaping up the McGregors' stairway and gave a loud knock
at their door.
"Oh, you old tight-jaw!" announced he, when on entering, he beheld Carl
grinning at him from across the room. "You might have put me out of my
misery."
The boy laughed.
"It wasn't my secret! I'd have been a cur to butt in on Louise's fun."
"So you would!"
Quietly Mrs. McGregor glanced up from the sea of delicate blue gauze
foaming about her.
"A ready tongue is a gift of silver, but a silent one is a treasure of
pure gold," observed she quaintly.