HURRYING MATTERS ALONG
“It’s coming just in time!” Dick was telling himself, when he saw what
rapid headway the flames were making around that side of the house.
A delay of five minutes might have imperiled their chances for escape.
And on that account, Dick was glad to see some of the firemen rushing
a ladder straight toward the window, with a pack of excited people
following at their heels, eager to observe what was going on.
When the ladder was placed, Dick instantly clambered out, and upon it.
He did not mean that any of the firemen should have the credit for
rescuing Mrs. Nocker after he and his chum had gone as far as they had.
“Help her out, Leslie,” he shouted to the other; “and then you come
along too.”
Tilly was still frightened by all these exciting conditions, but
she had seen her darling saved from the flames, and was ready to do
whatever she was told. So with the help of both the boys, she soon had
her feet planted on a rung of the ladder, and had commenced the descent.
Loud shouts of approval arose from the spectators, who by now had
recognized Dick and his companion.
“It’s the Widow Horner’s boy!” he heard one woman shrilly call out; and
somehow Dick felt a flush of pride at realizing that on this occasion
at least he need experience no sense of shame at being placed in the
spot-light.
All reached the ground in safety, and were quickly surrounded by the
exultant people. Many curious glances were cast at Tilly, for it must
be remembered that she was an utter stranger in Cliffwood, and few had
even known that the Brandon house boasted an occupant.
Naturally, the first thing in Mrs. Nocker’s mind was her boy. Until she
had him again in her arms, she could not stop to answer any questions,
or even take notice of friendly offers of temporary shelter, such as
kind-hearted people were only too ready to make.
“Take me to my child!” she kept crying, half hysterically. “I want my
Billy! Oh! I hope he has not been burned! Didn’t you say he was safe,
Dick, dear Dick? What do we not owe you! But take me to Billy, please!”
No one could blame the poor little woman for acting in this nervous
fashion, after the exciting experiences through which she had just
gone. Least of all did Dick think of considering her weak. He was too
happy over having succeeded in his task to think of Tilly in any other
way than that she had shown remarkable bravery for one of her sex.
“Where is the child?” he asked one of the gaping bystanders.
“A woman took him in her arms, and carried him back yonder,” was the
reply, when another man chimed in with his share of information:
“It was Mrs. Pettijohn, the tailor’s wife. She said she would be only
too glad to take the child over to her house across the way, and give
him and his mother shelter!”
“There she is talking to Jed Nocker!” added still a third member of the
group, pointing as he spoke.
Nothing could hold Tilly back now, and Dick did not make any attempt to
detain her, although something seemed to tell him that there was danger
of his well laid plan being brought to a crisis in an unexpected and
altogether hasty manner.
When they reached the spot where Mrs. Pettijohn stood with Billy, still
partly swathed in his blanket, in her arms, it was to find that Deacon
Nocker was demanding the possession of the little fellow.
“Give him to me, Mrs. Pettijohn!” he was saying, holding out his arms
entreatingly. But the woman shook her head, for she could not see why
she should surrender any child to a man who had always been known to
detest all young people.
“Why should I do that, Mr. Nocker?” she told him, aggressively.
“You know nothing about children, and I’ve raised seven in my day.
Besides, excuse me for saying it, but you’re really the last one in all
Cliffwood I’d want to hand this little darling over to just now. He’d
break his heart crying just to look at your face.”
“But you don’t understand, Mrs. Pettijohn,” urged the excited deacon,
still with arms extended; “Billy and I are already good friends. We
have been together every day for weeks now. He knows me, and cares a
lot for me. My house is close by, and he can have everything he needs;
yes, and his mother too, if she will accept of my hospitality. Billy,
come to me, my fine boy, won’t you?”
Billy evidently recognized the old gentleman, for he did make some sort
of half movement in the arms of the tailor’s wife. Just then Tilly
herself pounced upon them.
Mrs. Pettijohn realized who the little woman was, and she readily
surrendered the child to her motherly care. Fiercely, Tilly strained
him to her heart, at the same time covering his sweet face with burning
kisses! Then she would hold him off to gaze anxiously as though still
half filled with dread lest she discover some hideous mark where the
cruel tongues of fire had licked his tender skin.
Billy put his arms about her neck again and again. Of course, he was
too young to know what all this fuss was about, but the smoke smarted
his eyes so that the tears had been running down his cheeks, and he was
looking unusually charming in the eyes of the eager deacon.
Dick laid a hand on the arm of his chum. For the time being both of
them apparently forgot all about the burning house, and the hustling
firemen who had finally succeeded in getting a line of hose to work.
Both lads were intensely interested in the little drama that was being
played before their eyes, and with which they had had so much to do.
The deacon hovered close by. Evidently, he was only waiting to repeat
that generous offer of his as to a harbor for the two who were without
a roof to cover them. Dick wondered what Mrs. Nocker would say, now
that she found herself face to face with the hard-hearted old man who
had written her that cruel letter.
One of the women had been thoughtful enough to fetch the blanket along
which Dick threw from the window before allowing little Billy to drop.
This she wrapped the best she could about Tilly, now shivering with
the chill air; so that as she stood there she looked not unlike some
Indian squaw carrying her papoose in her arms.
“Watch, Dick, for it’s coming now!” said Leslie, in his chum’s ear, as
he saw old Mr. Nocker pushing forward, as though determined to assert
his rights as the nearest neighbor.
“Pardon me, madam,” they heard the deacon say, as softly as he could
tone down his usually harsh voice. “Are you Billy’s mother?”
Tilly did not need to be told who the old man with the stern face was.
Doubtless she had watched him in secret many times when he was sitting
there on that bench chatting with her child, and perhaps felt her heart
fail her as she contemplated the severe expression on his countenance.
Still, Dick noticed with secret admiration that she did not quail when
the supreme test came, but stood her ground bravely. It might be that
Tilly felt she was doubly armed now, knowing what a firm hold Billy had
taken on the affections of his grandfather.
“Yes, sir, I am Billy’s mother,” she said, simply.
“And I am your next door neighbor, Deacon Nocker,” the old man went
on to say, eagerly. “You must know that your dear little boy and I
have become great chums of late. I love him with all my heart, madam,
I assure you; and it was my intention to call upon his mother very
shortly. See, he recognizes me now. Billy, tell your mother we are the
best of friends, won’t you?”
Billy held out a hand toward him, which Mr. Nocker instantly pounced
upon and gripped. Dick experienced a queer sensation when he saw the
deacon actually bend his head and press several eager kisses on that
little member.
“Shucks! it’s nearly too soft a snap!” Leslie was muttering in the ear
of his chum. “Why, he’d get down on his knees to beg her to come to
him, Dick.”
“Shut up, can’t you?” hissed the other, not daring to remove his gaze
from the exciting little tableau for even a single second. “Watch and
see what happens next. There’s many a slip, you know, when you think
everything dead sure!”
“Huh! I guess he’s landed, all right,” chuckled Leslie. “Look at him
fairly ready to eat the little chap, will you?”
The deacon was speaking again now, and certainly no one in all
Cliffwood had ever heard him utter such pleading phrases; for as a rule
he had been apt to storm and complain.
“I have a large and comfortable house, madam,” he told Tilly; “and it
has been very dark and gloomy for a long time now. Pity a lonely old
man, please, and let a ray of sunshine come into my life. Allow me to
offer you a home, just as long as you would care to stay; and the
presence of little Billy would repay me a thousand fold. Say you will
come, I beg of you, for my sake, for Billy’s sake!”
Of course, that was the widow’s chance; and bravely did she rise to the
occasion.
“I thank you, sir, for your kind offer of hospitality,” she told him,
“but I could never accept without explaining something that evidently
you have never suspected. If I do come to your house, Mr. Nocker, it
must be at your earnest request after I have told you that I am the
widow of your son, and that this little darling I hold in my arms is
Amos’ own boy, Billy!”