MR. LAURIE
The visits of Laurie during the following two weeks became very
frequent; and such pleasure did they afford him that orders were issued
for Ted Turner to knock off work each day at four o'clock and return to
the shack, where almost invariably he found his new acquaintance
awaiting him. It was long since Laurie Fernald had had a person of his
own age to talk with. In fact, he had never before seen a lad whose
friendship he desired. Most boys were so well and strong that they had
no conception of what it meant not to be so, and their very robustness
and vitality overwhelmed a personality as sensitively attuned as was
that of Laurie Fernald. He shrank from their pity, their blundering
sympathy, their patronage.
But in Ted Turner he immediately felt he had nothing to dread. He might
have been a Marathon athlete, so far as any hint to the contrary went.
Ted appeared never to notice his disability or to be conscious of any
difference in their physical equipment; and when, as sometimes
happened, he stooped to arrange a pillow, or lift the wheel-chair over
the threshold, he did it so gently and yet in such a matter-of-fact
manner that one scarcely noticed it. They were simply eager, alert,
bubbling, interested boys together, and as the effect of the friendship
showed itself in Laurie's shining eyes, all the Fernalds encouraged it.
"Why, that young Turner is doing Laurie more good than a dozen
doctors!" asserted Grandfather Fernald. "If he did no work on the farm
at all, Ted would be worth his wages. Money can't pay for what he has
done already. I'm afraid Laurie has been missing young friends more
than we realized. He never complains and perhaps we did not suspect how
lonely he was."
Mr. Clarence nodded.
"Older people are pretty stupid about children sometimes, I guess,"
said he sadly. "Well, he has Ted Turner now and certainly he is a
splendid boy for him to be with. Laurie's tutor, Mr. Hazen, likes him
tremendously. What a blessing it is that Wharton stumbled on him and
brought him up here. Had we searched the countryside I doubt if we
could have found any one Laurie would have liked so much. He doesn't
care especially for strangers."
With the Fernald's sanction behind the friendship, and both Laurie's
tutor and his doctor urging it on, you may be sure it thrived
vigorously. The boys were naturally companionable and now, with every
barrier out of the way, and every fostering influence provided, the two
soon found themselves on terms of genuine affection.
If Laurie went for a motor ride Saturday afternoon, Ted must go, too;
if he had a new book, Ted must share it, and when he was not as well as
usual, or it was too stormy for him to be carried to the shack, nothing
would do but Ted Turner must be summoned to Pine Lea to brighten the
dreariness of the day. Soon the servants came to know the newcomer and
understand that he was a privileged person in the household. Laurie's
mother, a pretty Southern woman, welcomed him kindly and it was not
long before the two were united in a deep and affectionate conspiracy
which placed them on terms of the greatest intimacy.
"Laurie isn't quite so well this afternoon, Ted," Mrs. Fernald would
say. "Don't let him get too excited or talk too much." Or sometimes it
was, "Laurie had a bad night last night and is dreadfully discouraged
to-day. Do try and cheer him up."
Not infrequently Mr. Hazen would voice an appeal:
"I haven't been able to coax Laurie to touch his French lesson this
morning. Don't you want to see if you can't get him started on it?
He'll do anything for you."
And when Ted did succeed in getting the lesson learned, and not only
that but actually made an amusing game out of it, how grateful Mr.
Hazen was!
For with all his sweetness Laurie Fernald had a stubborn streak in his
nature which the volume of attention he had received had only served to
accentuate. He was not really spoiled but there were times when he
would do as he pleased, whether or no; and when such a mood came to the
surface, no one but Ted Turner seemed to have any power against it.
Therefore, when it occasionally chanced that Laurie refused to see the
doctor, or would not take his medicine, or insisted on getting up when
told to lie in bed, Ted was made an ally and urged to promote the thing
that made for the invalid's health and well-being.
After being admitted into the family circle on such confidential terms,
it followed that absolute equality was accorded Ted and he came and
went freely, both at Aldercliffe and Pine Lea. He read with Laurie,
lunched with him, followed his lessons; and listened to his plans, his
pleasures, and his disappointments. Perhaps, too, Laurie Fernald liked
and respected him the more that he had duties to perform and therefore
was not always free to come at his beck and call as did everybody else.
"I shan't be able to get round to see you to-day, old chap," Ted would
explain over the telephone. "There is a second crop of peas to plant in
the further lot and as Mr. Stevens is short of men, I'm going to duff
in and help, even if it isn't my job. Of course I want to do my bit
when they are in a pinch. I'll see you to-morrow."
And although Laurie grumbled a good deal, he recognized the present
need, and becoming interested in the matter in spite of himself, wished
to hear the following day all about the planting. That he should
inquire greatly delighted both his father and his grandfather who had
always been anxious that he should come into touch with the management
of the estates. Often they had tried to talk to him of crops and
gardens, plowing and planting, but to the subject the heir had lent
merely a deaf ear. Now with Ted Turner's advent had come a new
influence, the testimony of one who was practically interested in
agricultural problems and thought farming anything but dull. The boy
was genuinely eager that the work of the men should be a success and
therefore when he hoped for fair weather for the haying and it seemed
to make a real difference to him whether it was pleasant or not, how
could Laurie help being eager that it should not rain until the fields
were mowed and the crop garnered into the great barns? Or when Ted was
worrying about the pests that invaded the garden, one wouldn't have
been a true friend not to ask how the warfare was progressing.
Before Laurie knew it, he had learned much about the affairs of the
estates and had become awake to the obstacles good farmers encounter in
their strife with soil and weather conditions. As a result his outlook
broadened, he became less introspective and more alive to the concerns
of those about him; and he gained a new respect for his father's and
grandfather's employees. One had much less time to be depressed and
discouraged when one had so many things to think of.
Sometimes Ted brought in seeds and showed them; and afterward a slender
plant that had sprouted; and then Mr. Hazen would join in and tell the
two boys of other plants,--strange ones that grew in novel ways. Or
perhaps the talk led to the chemicals the gardeners were mixing with
the soil and wandered off into science. Every topic seemed to reach so
far and led into such fascinating mazes of knowledge! What a surprising
place the world was!
Of course, had the Fernalds so desired they could have relieved Ted of
all his farming duties, and indeed they were sorely tempted at times to
do so; but when they saw how much better it was to keep the boy's
visits a novelty instead of making of them a commonplace event, and
sensed how much knowledge he was bringing into the invalid's room, they
decided to let matters progress as they were going. They did, however,
arrange occasional holidays for the lad and many a jolly outing did Ted
have in consequence. Had they displayed less wisdom they might have
wrecked the friendship altogether. As it was they strengthened it daily
and the little shack among the pines became to both Ted and to Laurie
the most loved spot in the world. Frequently the servants from Pine Lea
surprised the boys by bringing them their luncheon there; and sometimes
Mrs. Fernald herself came hither with her tea-basket, and the entire
family sat about before the great stone fireplace and enjoyed a picnic
supper.
It was after one of these camping teas that Mr. Clarence Fernald bought
for Laurie a comfortable Adirondack canoe luxuriously fitted up with
cushions. The stream before the boathouse was broad and contained
little or no current except down toward Pine Lea, where it narrowed
into rapids that swept over the dam at Freeman's Falls. Therefore if
one kept along the edges of the upper part of the river, there was no
danger and the canoe afforded a delightful recreation. Both the elder
Fernalds and Mr. Hazen rowed well and Ted pulled an exceptionally
strong oar for a boy of his years. Hence they took turns at propelling
the boat and soon Laurie was as much at home on the pillows in the
stern as he was in his wheel-chair.
He greatly enjoyed the smooth, jarless motion of the craft; and often,
even when it was anchored at the float, he liked to be lifted into it
and lie there rocking with the wash of the river. It made a change
which he declared rested him, and it was through this simple and
apparently harmless pleasure that a terrible catastrophe took place.
On a fine warm afternoon Mr. Hazen and Laurie went over to the shack to
meet Ted who usually returned from work shortly after four o'clock. The
door of the little camp was wide open when they arrived but their host
was nowhere to be seen. This circumstance did not trouble them,
however, for on the days when Laurie was expected Ted always left the
boathouse unlocked. What did disconcert them and make Laurie impatient
was to discover that through some error in reckoning they were almost
an hour too early.
"Our clocks must have been ahead of time," fretted the boy. "We shall
have to hang round here the deuce of a while."
"Wouldn't you like me to wheel you back through the grove?" questioned
the tutor.
"Oh, there's no use in that. Suppose you get out the pillows and help
me into the boat. I'll lie there a while and rest."
"All right."
With a ready smile Mr. Hazen plunged into the shack and soon returned
laden with the crimson cushions, which he arranged in the stern of the
canoe with greatest care. Afterward he picked Laurie up in his arms as
if he had been a feather and carried him to the boat.
"How's that?" he asked, when the invalid was settled.
"Fine! Great, thanks! You're a wonder with pillows, Mr. Hazen; you
always get them just right," replied the lad. "Now if I only had my
book----"
"I could go and get it."
"Oh, no. Don't bother. Ted will be here before long, won't he? What
time is it?"
"About half-past three."
"Only half-past three! Great Scott! I thought it must be nearly four by
this time. Then I have quite a while to wait, don't I? I don't see why
you got me over here so early."
"I don't either," returned Mr. Hazen pleasantly. "I'm afraid my watch
must have been wrong."
Laurie moved restlessly on the pillows. He had passed a wretched night
and was worn and nervous in consequence.
"I guess perhaps you'd better run back to the house for my book,"
remarked he presently. "I shall be having a fit of the blues if I have
to hang round here so long with nothing to do."
"I'm perfectly willing to go back," Mr. Hazen said. "But are you
sure----"
"Oh, I'm all right," cut in the boy sharply. "I guess I can sit in a
boat by myself for a little while."
"Still, I'm not certain that I ought to----"
"Leave me? Nonsense! What do you think I am, Hazen? A baby? What on
earth is going to happen to me, I'd like to know?"
"Nevertheless I don't like to----"
"Oh, do stop arguing. It makes me tired. Cut along and get the book,
can't you? Why waste all this time fussing?" burst out the invalid
fretfully. "How am I ever going to get well, or think I am well, if you
keep reminding me every minute that I am a helpless wreck? It is enough
to discourage anybody. Why can't you treat me like other people? If you
chose to sit in a boat alone for half an hour nobody'd throw a fit. Why
can't I?"
"I suppose you can," retorted the tutor unwillingly. "Only you know we
never do----"
"Leave me? Don't I know it? The way people tag at my heels drives me
almost crazy sometimes. You wouldn't like to have some one dogging your
footsteps from morning until night, would you?"
"I'm afraid I shouldn't," admitted Mr. Hazen.
For an interval Laurie was silent; then he glanced up with one of his
swift, appealing smiles.
"There, there, Mr. Hazen!" he said with winning sincerity. "Forgive me.
I didn't mean to be cross. I do get so fiendishly impatient sometimes.
How you can keep on being so kind to me I don't see. Do please go and
get the book, like a good chap. It's on the chair in my room or else on
the library table. You'll find it somewhere. 'Treasure Island,' you
know. I had to leave it in the middle of a most exciting chapter and I
am crazy to know how it came out."
Reluctantly Mr. Hazen moved away. It was very hard to resist Laurie
Fernald when he was in his present mood; besides, the young tutor was
genuinely fond of his charge and would far rather gratify his wishes
than refuse him anything. Therefore he hurried off through the grove,
resolving to return as fast as ever he could.
In the meantime Laurie threw his head back on the pillows and looked up
at the sky. How blue it was and how lazily the clouds drifted by! Was
any spot on earth so still as this? Why, you could not hear a sound! He
yawned and closed his eyes, the fatigue of his sleepless night
overcoming him. Soon he was lost in dreams.
* * * * *
He never could tell just what it was that aroused him; perhaps it was a
premonition of danger, perhaps the rocking of the boat. At any rate he
was suddenly broad awake to find himself drifting out into the middle
of the stream. In some way the boat must have become unfastened and the
rising breeze carried it away from shore. Not that it mattered very
much now. The thing that was of consequence was that he was helplessly
drifting down the river with no means of staying his progress. Soon he
would be caught in the swirl of the current and then there would be no
help for him. What was he to do?
Must he lie there and be borne along until he was at last carried over
the dam at his father's mills?
He saw no escape from such a fate! There was not a soul in sight. The
banks of the river were entirely deserted, for the workmen were far
away, toiling in the fields and gardens, and they could not hear him
even were he to shout his loudest. As for Mr. Hazen, he was probably
still at Pine Lea searching for the book and wouldn't be back for some
time.
The boy's heart sank and he quivered with fear. Must he be drowned
there all alone? Was there no one to aid him?
Thoroughly terrified, he began to scream. But his screams only reechoed
from the silent river banks. No one heard and no one came.
He was in the current of the stream now and moving rapidly along.
Faster and faster he went. Yes, he was going to be swept on to
Freeman's Falls, going to be carried over the dam and submerged beneath
that hideous roar of water that foamed down on the jagged rocks in a
boiling torrent of noise and spray. Nobody would know his plight until
the catastrophe was over; and even should any of the mill hands catch
sight of his frail craft as it sped past it would be too late for them
to help him. Before a boat could be launched and rescuers summoned he
would be over the falls.
Yes, he was going to die, _to die_!
Again he screamed, this time less with a thought of calling for help
than as a protest against the fate awaiting him. To his surprise he
heard an answering shout and a second later saw Ted Turner dash through
the pines, pause on the shore, and scan the stream. Another instant and
the boy had thrown off his coat and shoes and was in the water,
swimming toward the boat with quick, overhand strokes.
[Illustration: He heard an answering shout and a second later saw Ted
Turner dash through the pines. _Page_ 88.]
"Keep perfectly still, Laurie!" he panted. "You're all right. Just
don't get fussed."
Yet cheering as were the words, they could not conceal the fact that
Ted was frightened, terribly frightened.
The canoe gained headway with the increasing current. It seemed now to
leap along. And in just the proportion that its progress was
accelerated, the speed of the pursuer lessened. It seemed as if Ted
would never overtake his prize. How they raced one another, the bobbing
craft and the breathless boy! Ted Turner was a strong swimmer but the
canoe with its solitary occupant was so light that it shot over the
surface of the water like a feather.
Was the contest to be a losing one, after all?
Laurie, looking back at the wake of the boat, saw Ted's arm move slower
and slower and suddenly a wave of realization of the other's danger
came upon him. They might both be drowned,--two of them instead of one!
"Give it up, old man!" he called bravely. "Don't try any more. You may
go down yourself and I should have to die with that misery on my soul.
You've done your best. It's all right. Just let me go! I'm not afraid."
There was no answer from the swimmer but he did not stop. On the
contrary, he kept stubbornly on, plowing with mechanical persistence
through the water. Then at length he, too, was in the current and was
gaining surely and speedily. Presently he was only a length away from
the boat--he was nearer--nearer! His arm touched the stern and Laurie
Fernald caught his hand in a firm grip. There he hung, breathing
heavily.
"I've simply got to stop a second or two and get my wind," said he.
"Then we'll start back."
"Ted!"
"There are no oars, of course, but I can tie the rope around my body or
perhaps catch it between my teeth. The canoe isn't heavy, you know.
After we get out of the current and into quiet water, we shall have no
trouble. We can cut straight across the stream and the distance to
shore won't be great. I can do it all right."
And do it he did, just how neither of the lads could have told.
Nevertheless he did contrive to bring the boat and Laurie with it to a
place of safety. Shoulder-deep in the water stood the frenzied Mr.
Hazen who had plunged in to meet them and drag them to land. They had
come so far down the river that when the canoe was finally beached they
found themselves opposite the sweeping lawns of Pine Lea.
Ted and the tutor were chilled and exhausted and Laurie was weak from
fright and excitement. It did not take long, you may be sure, to summon
help and bundle the three into a motor car which carried them to Pine
Lea. Once there the invalid was put to bed and Mr. Hazen and Ted
equipped with dry garments.
"I shall get the deuce from the Fernalds for this!" commented the young
tutor gloomily to Ted. "If it had not been for you, that boy would
certainly have been drowned. Ugh! It makes me shudder to think of it!
Had anything happened to him, I believe his father and grandfather
would have lynched me."
"Oh, Laurie is going to take all the blame," replied Ted, making an
attempt to comfort the dejected young man. "He told me so himself."
"That's all very well," rejoined Mr. Hazen, "but it won't help much. I
shouldn't have left him. I had no right to do it, no matter what he
said. I suppose the boat wasn't securely tied. It couldn't have been.
Then the breeze came up. Goodness knows how the thing actually
happened. I can't understand it now. But the point is, it did. Jove!
I'm weak as a rag! I guess there can't be much left of you, Ted."
"Oh, I'm all right now," protested Ted. "What got me was the fright of
it. I didn't mind the swimming, for I've often crossed the river and
back during my morning plunge. My work keeps me in pretty good
training. But to-day I got panicky and my breath gave out. I was so
afraid I wouldn't overtake the boat before----"
"I know!" interrupted the tutor with a shiver. "Well, it is all over
now, thank God! You were a genuine hero and I shall tell the Fernalds
so."
"Stuff! Don't tell them at all. What's the use of harrowing their
feelings all up now that the thing is past and done with?"
"But Laurie--he is all done up and they will be at a loss to account
for it," objected Mr. Hazen. "Besides, the servants saw us come ashore
and have probably already spread the story all over the place. And
anyhow, I believe in being perfectly aboveboard. You do yourself, you
know that. So I shall tell them the whole thing precisely as it
happened. Afterward they'll probably fire me."
"No, they won't! Cheer up!"
"I deserve to be fired, too," went on the young tutor without heeding
the interruption. "I ought not to have left Laurie an instant."
"Perhaps not. But you won't do it again."
"You bet I won't!" cried Mr. Hazen boyishly.
It subsequently proved that Mr. Hazen knew far more of his employers
than did Ted, for after the story was told only the pleas of the young
rescuer availed to soften the sentence imposed.
"He's almighty sorry, Mr. Fernald," asserted Ted Turner. "Don't tip him
out. Give him a second try. He won't ever do it again."
"W--e--ll, for your sake I will," Mr. Clarence said, yielding
reluctantly to the pleading of the lad who sat opposite. "It would be
hard for me to deny you anything after what you've done. You've saved
our boy's life. We never shall forget it, never. But Hazen can thank
you for his job--not me."
And so, as a result of Ted's intercession, Mr. Hazen stayed on. In
fact, as Mr. Clarence said, they could deny the lad nothing. It seemed
as if the Fernalds never could do enough for him. Grandfather Fernald
gave him a new watch with an illuminated face; and quite unknown to any
one, Laurie's father opened a bank account to his credit, depositing a
substantial sum as a "starter."
But the best of the whole thing was that Laurie turned to Ted with a
deeper and more earnest affection and the foundation was laid for a
strong and enduring friendship.