THE FERNALDS WIN THEIR POINT
The trial of Alf Sullivan and Jim Cronin was one of the most
spectacular and thrilling events Freeman's Falls had ever witnessed.
That two such notorious criminals should have been captured through the
efforts of a young boy was almost inconceivable to the police,
especially to the State detectives whom they had continually outwitted.
And yet here they were in the dock and the town officers made not the
slightest pretense that any part of the glory of their apprehension
belonged to them. To Ted Turner's prompt action, and to that alone, the
triumph was due.
In consequence the boy became the hero of the village. He had always
been a favorite with both young and old, for every one liked his
father, and it followed that they liked his father's son. Now, however,
they had greater cause to admire that son for his own sake and cherish
toward him the warmest gratitude. Many a man and woman reflected that
it was this slender boy who had stood between them and a calamity
almost too horrible to be believed; and as a result their gratitude was
tremendous. And if the townsfolk were sensible of this great obligation
how much more keenly alive to it were the Fernalds whose property had
been thus menaced.
"You have topped one service with another, Ted," Mr. Lawrence Fernald
declared. "We do not see how we are ever to thank you. Come, there must
be something that you would like--some wish you would be happy to have
gratified. Tell us what it is and perhaps we can act as magicians and
make it come true."
"Yes," pleaded Mr. Clarence Fernald, "speak out, Ted. Do not hesitate.
Remember you have done us a favor the magnitude of which can never be
measured and which we can never repay."
"But I do not want to be paid, sir," the lad answered. "I am quite as
thankful as you that the wretches who purposed harm were caught before
they had had opportunity to destroy either life or property. Certainly
that is reward enough."
"It _is_ a reward in its way," the elder Mr. Fernald asserted. "The
thought that it was you who were the savior of an entire community will
bring you happiness as long as you live. Nevertheless we should like to
give you something more tangible than pleasant thoughts. We want you to
have something by which to remember this marvelous escape from tragedy.
Deep down in your heart there must be some wish you cherish. If you
knew the satisfaction it would give us to gratify it, I am sure you
would not be so reluctant to express it."
Ted colored, and after hesitating an instant, shyly replied:
"Since you are both so kind and really seem to wish to know, there is
something I should like."
"Name it!" the Fernalds cried in unison.
"I should like to feel I can return to the shack next summer," the boy
remarked timidly. "You see, I have become very fond of Aldercliffe and
Pine Lea, fond of Laurie, of Mr. Hazen, and of the little hut. I have
felt far more sorry than perhaps you realize to go away from here." His
voice quivered.
"You poor youngster!" Mr. Clarence exclaimed. "Why in the name of
goodness didn't you say so? There is no more need of your leaving this
place than there is of my going, or Laurie. We ought to have sensed
your feeling and seen to it that other plans were made long ago.
Indeed, you shall come back to your little riverside abode next
summer--never fear! And as for Aldercliffe, Pine Lea, Laurie and all
the rest of it, you shall not be parted from any of them."
"But I must go back to school now, sir."
"What's the matter with your staying on at Pine Lea and having your
lessons with Laurie and Mr. Hazen instead?"
"Oh--why----"
"Should you like to?"
"Oh, Mr. Fernald, it would be----"
Laurie's father laughed.
"I guess we do not need an answer to that question," Grandfather
Fernald remarked, smiling. "His face tells the tale."
"Then the thing is as good as done," Mr. Clarence announced. "Hazen
will be as set up as an old hen to have two chicks. He likes you, Ted."
"And well he may," growled Grandfather Fernald. "But for Ted's prayers
and pleas he would not now be here."
"Yes, Hazen will be much pleased," reiterated Mr. Clarence Fernald,
ignoring his father's comment. "As for Laurie--I wonder we never
thought of all this before. It is no more work to teach two boys than
one, and in the meantime each will act as a stimulus for the other. The
spur of rivalry will be a splendid incentive for Laurie, to say nothing
of the joy he will take in your companionship. He needs young people
about him. It is a great scheme, a great scheme!" mused Mr. Fernald,
rubbing his hands with increasing satisfaction as one advantage of the
arrangement after another rotated through his mind.
"If only my father does not object," murmured Ted.
"Object! Object!" blustered Grandfather Fernald. "And why, pray, should
he object?"
That a man of Mr. Turner's station in life should view the plan with
anything but pride and complacency was evidently a new thought to the
financier.
"Why, sir, my father and sisters are very fond of me and may not wish
to have me remain longer away from home. They have missed me a lot this
summer, I know that. You see I am the youngest one, the only boy."
"Humph!" interpolated the elder Mr. Fernald.
"In spite of the fact that we are crowded at home and too busy to see
much of one another, Father likes to feel I'm around," continued Ted.
"I--suppose--so," came slowly from the old gentleman.
"I am sure I can fix all that," asserted Mr. Clarence Fernald briskly.
"I will see your father and sisters myself, and I feel sure they will
not stand in the way of your getting a fine education when it is
offered you--that is, if they care as much for you as you say they do.
On the contrary, they will be the first persons to realize that such a
plan is greatly to your advantage."
"It is going to be almightily to your advantage," Mr. Lawrence Fernald
added. "Who can tell where it all may lead? If you do well at your
studies, perhaps it may mean college some day, and a big, well-paid job
afterward."
Ted's eyes shone.
"Would you like to go to college if you could?" persisted the elder
man.
"You bet I would--I mean yes, sir."
The old gentleman chuckled at the fervor of the reply.
"Well, well," said he, "time must decide all that. First lay a good
foundation. You cannot build anything worth building without something
to build upon. You get your cellar dug and we will then see what we
will put on top of it."
With this parting remark he and his son moved away.
When the project was laid before Laurie, his delight knew no bounds. To
have Ted come and live at Pine Lea for the winter, what a lark! Think
of having some one to read and study with every day! Nothing could be
jollier! And Mr. Hazen was every whit as pleased.
"It is the very thing!" he exclaimed to Laurie's father. "Ted will not
be the least trouble. He is a fine student and it will be a
satisfaction to work with him. Besides, unless I greatly miss my guess,
he will cheer Laurie on to much larger accomplishments. Ted's influence
has never been anything but good."
And what said Laurie's mother?
"It is splendid, Clarence, splendid! We can refurnish that extra room
that adjoins Laurie's suite and let Mr. Hazen and the boys have that
entire wing of the house. Nothing could be simpler. I shall be glad to
have Ted here. Not only is he a fine boy but he has proved himself a
good friend to us all. If we can do anything for him, we certainly
should do it. The lad has had none too easy a time in this world."
Yes, all went well with the plan so far as the Fernalds were concerned;
but the Turners--ah, there was the stumbling block!
"It's no doubt a fine thing you're offering to do for my son," Ted's
father replied to Mr. Clarence Fernald, "and I assure you I am not
unmindful of your kindness; but you see he is our only boy and when he
isn't here whistling round the house we miss him. 'Tain't as if we had
him at home during his vacation. If he goes up to your place to work
summers and stays there winters as well, we shall scarcely see him at
all. All we have had of him this last year was an occasional teatime
visit. Folks don't like having their children go out from the family
roof so young."
"But, Father," put in Nancy, "think what such a chance as this will
mean to Ted. You yourself have said over and over again that there was
nothing like having an education."
"I know it," mused the man. "There's nothing can equal knowing
something. I never did and look where I've landed. I'll never go ahead
none. But I want it to be different with my boy. He's going to have
some stock in trade in the way of training for life. It will be a kind
of capital nothing can sweep away. As I figure it, it will be a sure
investment--that is, if the boy has any stuff in him."
"An education is a pretty solid investment," agreed the elder Mr.
Fernald, "and you are wise to recognize its value, Mr. Turner. To
plunge into life without such a weapon is like entering battle without
a sword. I know, for I have tried it."
"Have you indeed, sir?"
Grandfather Fernald nodded.
"I was brought up on a Vermont farm when I was a boy."
"You don't say so! Well, well!"
"Yes, I never had much schooling," went on the old man. "Of course I
picked up a lot of practical knowledge, as a boy will; and in some ways
it has not been so bad. But it was a pretty mixed-up lot of stuff and I
have been all my life sorting it out and putting it in order. I
sometimes wonder when I think things over that I got ahead at all; it
was more happen than anything else, I guess."
"The Vermonters have good heads on their shoulders," Mr. Turner
remarked.
"Oh, you can't beat the Green Mountain State," laughed the senior Mr.
Fernald, unbending into cordiality in the face of a common interest.
"Still, when it came to bringing up my boy I felt as you do. I wasn't
satisfied to have him get nothing more than I had. So I sent him to
college and gave him all the education I never got myself. It has stood
him in good stead, too, and I've lived to be proud of what he's done
with it."
"And well you may be, sir," Mr. Turner observed.
Mr. Clarence Fernald flushed in the face of these plaudits and cut the
conversation short by saying:
"It is that kind of an education that we want to give your boy, Mr.
Turner. We like the youngster and believe he has promise of something
fine. We should like to prepare him for college or some technical
school and send him through it. He has quite a pronounced bent for
science and given the proper opportunities he might develop into
something beyond the ordinary rank and file."
"Do you think so, sir?" asked Mr. Turner, glowing with pleasure. "Well,
I don't know but that he has a sort of knack with wire, nails, and
queer machinery. He has tinkered with such things since he was a little
lad. Of late he has been fussing round with electricity and scaring us
all to death here at home. His sisters were always expecting he'd meet
his end or blow up the house with some claptraption he'd put together."
Nancy blushed; then added, with a shy glance toward the Fernalds:
"They say down at the school that Ted is quite handy with telephones
and such things."
"Mr. Hazen, my son's tutor, thinks your brother has a knowledge of
electricity far beyond his years," replied Mr. Clarence Fernald. "That
is why it seems a pity his talents in that direction should not be
cultivated. Who knows but he may be an embryo genius? You never can
tell what may be inside a child."
"You're right there, sir," Mr. Turner assented cordially. Then after a
moment of thought, he continued, "Likely an education such as you are
figuring on would cost a mint of money."
The Fernalds, both father and son, smiled at the naive comment.
"Well--yes," confessed Mr. Clarence slowly. "It would cost something."
"A whole lot?"
"If you wanted the best."
Mr. Turner scratched his head.
"I'm afraid I couldn't swing it," declared he, regret in his tone.
"But we are offering to do this for you," put in Grandfather Fernald.
"I know you are, sir; I know you are and I'm grateful," Ted's father
answered. "But if I could manage it myself, I'd----"
"Come, Mr. Turner, I beg you won't say that," interrupted the elder Mr.
Fernald. "Think what we owe to your son. Why, we never in all the world
can repay what he has done for us. This is no favor. We are simply
paying our debts. You like to pay your bills, don't you?"
"Indeed I do, sir!" was the hearty reply. "There's no happier moment
than the one when I take my pay envelope and go to square up what I
owe. True, I don't run up many bills; still, there is not always money
enough on hand to make both ends meet without depending some on
credit."
"How much do you get in the shipping room?"
"Eighty dollars a month, sir."
"And your daughters are working?"
"They are in the spinning mills."
Mr. Fernald glanced about over the little room. Although scrupulously
neat, it was quite apparent that the apartment was far too crowded for
comfort. The furnishings also bespoke frugality in the extreme. It was
not necessary to be told that the Turners' life was a close
arithmetical problem.
"Your family stand by us loyally," observed the financier.
"We have your mills to thank for our daily bread, sir," Mr. Turner
answered.
"And your boy--if he does not go on with his studies shall you have him
enter the factories?"
Mr. Turner squared his shoulders with a swift gesture of protest.
"No, sir--not if I can help it!" he burst out. Then as if he suddenly
sensed his discourtesy, he added, "I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I
wasn't thinking who I was talking to. It isn't that I do not like the
mills. It's only that there is so little chance for the lad to get
ahead there. I wouldn't want the boy to spend his life grubbing away as
I have."
"And yet you are denying him the chance to better himself."
"I am kinder going round in a circle, ain't I?" returned Mr. Turner
gently. "Like as not it is hard for you to understand how I feel. It's
only that you hate to let somebody else do for your children. It seems
like charity."
"Charity! Charity--when we owe the life of our boy, the lives of many
of our workmen, the safety of our mills to your son?" ejaculated Mr.
Clarence Fernald with unmistakable sincerity.
"When you pile it up that way it does sound like a pretty big debt,
doesn't it?" mused Mr. Turner.
"Of course it's a big debt--it is a tremendous one. Now try, Mr.
Turner, and see our point of view. We want to take our envelope in our
hands and although we have not fortune enough in the world to wipe out
all we owe, we wish to pay part of it, at least. No matter how much we
may be able to do for Ted in the future, we shall never be paying in
full all that he has done for us. Much of his service we must accept as
an obligation and give in return for it nothing but gratitude and
affection. But if you will grant us the privilege of doing this little,
it will give us the greatest pleasure."
If any one had told the stately Mr. Lawrence Fernald weeks before that
he would be in the home of one of his workmen, pleading for a favor, he
would probably have shrugged his shoulders and laughed; and even Mr.
Clarence Fernald, who was less of an aristocrat than his father, would
doubtless have questioned a prediction of his being obliged actually to
implore one of the men in his employ to accept a benefaction from him.
Yet here they both were, almost upon their knees, theoretically, before
this self-respecting artisan.
In the face of such entreaty who could have remained obdurate?
Certainly not Mr. Turner who in spite of his pride was the
kindest-hearted creature alive.
"Well, you shall have your way, gentlemen," he at length replied, "Ted
shall stay on at Pine Lea, since you wish it, and you shall plan his
education as you think best. I know little of such matters and feel
sure the problem is better in your hands than mine. I know you will
work for the boy's good. And I beg you won't think me ungrateful
because I have hesitated to accept your offer. We all have our scruples
and I have mine. But now that I have put them in the background, I
shall take whole-heartedly what you give and be most thankful for it."
Thus did the Fernalds win their point. Nevertheless they came away from
the Turner's humble home with a consciousness that instead of bestowing
a favor, as they had expected to do, they had really received one.
Perhaps they did not respect Ted's father the less because of his
reluctance to take the splendid gift they had put within his reach.
They themselves were proud men and they had a sympathy for the pride of
others. There could be no question that the interview had furnished
both of them with food for thought for as they drove home in their
great touring car they did not speak immediately. By and by, however,
Grandfather Fernald observed:
"Don't you think, Clarence, Turner's pay should be increased? Eighty
dollars isn't much to keep a roof over one's head and feed a family of
three persons."
"I have been thinking that, too," returned his son. "They tell me he is
a very faithful workman and he has been here long enough to have earned
a substantial increase in wages. I don't see why I never got round to
doing something for him before. The fellow was probably too proud to
ask for more money and unless some kick comes to me those things slip
my mind. I'll see right away what can be done."
There was a pause and then the senior Mr. Fernald spoke again:
"Do you ever feel that we ought to do something about furnishing better
quarters for the men?" he asked. "I have had the matter on my
conscience for months. Look at that tenement of the Turners! It is old,
out of date, crowded and stuffy. There isn't a ray of sunshine in it.
It's a disgrace to herd a family into such a place. And I suppose there
are ever so many others like it in Freeman's Falls."
"I'm afraid there are, Father."
"I don't like the idea of it," growled old Mr. Fernald. "The houses all
look well enough until one goes inside. But they're terrible, terrible!
Why, they are actually depressing. I haven't shaken off the gloom of
that room yet. We own land enough on the other side of the river. Why
couldn't we build a handsome bridge and then develop that unused area
by putting up some decent houses for our people? It would increase the
value of the property and at the same time improve the living
conditions of our employees. What do you say to the notion?"
"I am ready to go in on any such scheme!" cried Mr. Clarence Fernald
heartily. "I'd like nothing better. I have always wanted to take up the
matter with you; but I fancied from something you said once when I
suggested it that you----"
"I didn't realize what those houses down along the water front were
like," interrupted Grandfather Fernald. "Ugh! At least sunshine does
not cost money. We must see that our people get more of it."