The streets were deserted as Jap came from the station. In his state
of mind, he did not reflect on the oddity of this circumstance. But
had he reflected, the condition of traffic congestion at the corner
near Blanke's drug store and the further congestion in front of the
bank would have enlightened him. All the business men of Bloomtown,
who had rushed to the _Herald_ office with important advertisements or
news items, were reluctantly giving place to those who had discovered a
sudden want of letter-heads.
The telegraph office at Bloomtown was no secret repository, and in less
than ten minutes after Bill had telegraphed Jap to hurry home the whole
street knew that the beautiful vision that arrived on the 6:20 was Jap
Herron's sister, Agnesia. And forthwith traffic filed that way.
The vision arose as Jap entered the front door, and waited until he
came into the private office. It was apparent that Bill had played
host, to the limit of his meager resources. Agnesia's hat and
fur-trimmed coat lay on the table of exchanges.
"Well, Jappie," she laughed in silvery tones, "how long you are!"
He took her little ringed hands in his and looked at her silently.
Agnesia was the beauty of the family. Her golden curls fluffed
bewitchingly about her face and her wide blue eyes smiled
affectionately.
"You are grown, too, Aggie. I have been thinking of you as a very
little----"
"Mercy!" she broke in. "Please, Jappie, don't drag that awful name to
light. When I went to the new home, they mercifully killed Agnesia. I
have been Mabelle Hastings so long that I had almost forgotten Aggie
Herron. I gave that hideous name to your friend," she flung a
gold-flashed smile at Bill, "because you had no sister Mabelle in the
old days. Our folks made a bad selection of names for their progeny.
And why Jasper? Why didn't they put the James first? It sounds so
much more human."
"Not a bit of it!" declared Bill. "What is there about James? This
town had to have its Jap Herron. No substitute would have made good."
She slipped a glance through her long lashes at Bill.
"I called him 'Jappie,'" she confided. "I was a lisping baby and
couldn't say 'Jasper.' Dear old Jappie, how he slaved for me! And I
was a tyrant, demanding service every minute of the day."
Jap's face clouded. "Aggie is a bigbug now," came surging into his
memory, as a wizened face obtruded itself between the laughing eyes of
his sister and his own. The girl noted the swift change. She took his
handy her voice quivering with appeal.
"I know what you are thinking about," she said. "But I could not help
it, Jappie. We don't have to keep up the pretense before Mr. Bowers.
He knows the worst, I take it. Jappie, you may not remember, but when
Mrs. Hastings adopted me, my mother had reported that she would either
turn me out or give me to the county. Afterward my foster-mother took
me away from Happy Hollow when she saw that our mother was bringing
disgrace on all of us. She sacrificed her home and moved far enough
away so that no smirch could come to me. You don't know, brother, and
I would never want you to know the dreadful things she did. I had not
heard from her since she married that drunken brute, until she came to
the house one hot day. When she found no one at home, she laid down on
the porch and went to sleep, drunk and unspeakably filthy. She was
there when we returned with a party of friends. Can you imagine it,
Jappie?"
Jap nodded his head slowly.
"Mrs. Hastings had her taken out of town, and told her if she came
there again she would have her put in an asylum for drunkards. After
that she threatened to descend upon Fanny Maud. Fanny could not afford
to have her career spoiled. Perhaps we were cruel. I read the
scorching letter you wrote to Fanny after her--after mother's death.
But Fanny was not angry with you, and--and she was willing to have me
come to you now. Next spring she will graduate in vocal music from the
highest university in the country, and then she goes to Paris to study
under the artists there. Jappie, she has made a large part of it,
herself, teaching and singing in the church choir, and studying
whenever she had enough money ahead. At last Uncle Francis died and
left her a snug little sum, and she went to New York, where they say
her voice is a wonder. We should be proud of her. She wants you to
come with me in June to hear her sing when she graduates."
Jap stared at the floor. She laid her hand coaxingly on his shoulder.
"Of course Jap will go!" Bill's brown eyes were glowing. Jap looked
across at him in astonishment and wonder. His brain reeled. The day
had been too full.
"And you?" the girl queried, smiling into those dancing brown eyes.
"We can't both go at once," he blurted. "The paper has to come out on
time."
She arose and wandered through the rooms that occupied the lower floor
of the building, stepping from a hasty and uncomprehending glance at
the press room and the composing room to dwell with critical eye on the
big, bare office.
"You need a little fixing up," she commented. "You should have a nice
rug and shades, and a roll-top desk and swivel chair."
"So we should," lamented Bill, looking around with an air of
disapproval. "But not having anybody to tell us----" He stopped
short, embarrassed.
"I guess that I will have to keep house for Jappie, and boss the office
too. That is, if you want me, Jappie," she appealed. "Mrs. Hastings
died last March, and I have been with Fanny ever since. My
foster-mother left me well provided for. I won't be a burden, Jappie,"
she cried. "We have all made good. We must rejoice together."
Bill was half way across the office in his excitement.
"You can take Flossy's house," he burst out. "It's ready any time,
because Pap had it completely overhauled after the tenants moved out.
It's the only ready-furnished house in Bloomtown and----" His voice
lowered and there was a note of wistfulness in it. "Jap, Flossy would
be so happy!"
Jap surveyed his erstwhile desperate friend with a gleam of merriment.
As yet, Bill did not know but that his sacrificing partner was a
fugitive from the law. He had not even remembered to ask about the
well-being of Wilfred Jones and his wife.
"Perhaps Aggie--Mabelle," he hastily corrected, "is just joking. She
would hardly like to bury herself in this little town after New York.
There would be so little to compensate."
"Oh, I don't fear that I will regret New York," said Mabelle, letting
her blue eyes dwell on Bill's ingenuous countenance for a throbbing
moment. "Really, Jappie, there's nothing to regret."
Bill's heart turned over twice. His face was appealing. He met Jap's
dancing eyes defiantly.
"Well," said Jap, "you might get the keys and show the cottage to
Ag--Mabelle, and see how much enthusiasm it provokes. Perhaps it would
make a better first impression by electric light. Here, put an extra
bulb in your pocket, if one happens to be missing," and he drew out the
table drawer, where many things lay hidden.
Bill was helping Mabelle on with her coat, his well-set body charged
with electricity that was strangely illuminating to Jap. As the two
left the office, a few minutes later, a teasing voice called after them:
"Remember, Bill, that you took on a pile of orders this evening, and we
were loaded to the guards with job work already."