IN FAIR HARBOR
THE morning newspapers announced the arrest of Emmanuel de Vendôme,
alias Henry Cochin, who was wanted by another state to answer various
charges, and the policeman’s warning against the epauleted stranger was
at once made clear. The Stickneys’ thankfulness lessened the sting of
disappointment, and their gratitude to Thomas Fitzpatrick grew great.
Blue and his mother came home at noon to find Doodles in overflowing
good spirits.
“Guess what I’ve got!” he cried. “But you couldn’t—ever! Some wedding
cards! Whose do you s’pose?”
“Dolly Moon’s!” shouted Blue.
“Oh, you’ve guessed right the first time!” laughed Doodles. “But who
to?—that’s what!”
“I do’ know—how should I?”
“Is it Mr. Gaylord?” ventured Mrs. Stickney.
“Aw! why didn’t I think o’ him!” cried Blue, catching the truth from his
brother’s face.
The announcement was read and reread, fingered and talked about.
“They ought to have invited us,” commented Blue.
“I presume they didn’t have much of a wedding,” returned the mother.
“Queer ’t they’re going to be ‘at home’ in Fair Harbor,” went on Blue.
“He must have got something to do there—I wonder what. That’s only
twenty miles or so from here; I think they might come up and see us.”
“Perhaps they will!” beamed Doodles. “Isn’t it nice they directed it to
me? You don’t care, do you?” He cast an anxious look towards the others.
“Not a bit,” Blue assured him, while Mrs. Stickney hurried the dinner
along to the accompaniment of merry talk and many surmises concerning
the newly married pair.
On the succeeding noon Doodles was still more excited.
“Well, who’s married this time?” laughed Blue, as his brother waved a
white envelope for greeting.
“Nobody else,” chuckled the small boy; “but just you read it!”
Blue pulled out the sheet, and read aloud:—
SWEETHEART DEAR:—
Did you get the announcement yesterday—which would never have been
but for you?
We had the tiniest wedding that ever was, with only grandpa and Aunt
Sarah for guests, and here we are at Giles’s Aunt Ruth’s! She is a
dear little woman who hasn’t been outdoors on her feet for
twenty─five years. We shall stay only a few days, and then are going
to begin housekeeping in our little nest at Fair Harbor. It is the
cosiest place, all furnished and ready for us, even to a hod of coal
and basket of kindlings by the stove! I can hardly wait for you to
see it. Just as soon as we are settled we are coming up to carry you
home with us for over Sunday. Giles has engaged with the Valentia
Company, to sell their cars, and will have one to use. So we shall
spin up to see you often. I think we shall keep you, sweetheart, for
a fortnight or so, as you have neither silverware nor school books
to make demands upon you. So get your suitcase packed. Don’t you
dare say no! We shall come soon, but I will write ahead. Giles sends
love to you all, as do I. Grandpa wanted me to be sure and give you
his. He says he shall never forget the songs you sang to him.
Always yours,
DOROTHY MOON GAYLORD.
“Isn’t that just jolly!” cried Blue, beginning a double shuffle, which
his mother hushed. “Won’t we have a dandy time!”
“You’ll go, won’t you?” anxiously inquired Doodles.
“I don’t see why not,” she smiled. “I’d be glad to get away for a day or
two.”
Thus it was decided, and Mrs. Stickney washed and ironed and mended and
purchased, until at the end of two weeks, when the anticipations came
true, all was in readiness for the unwonted trip.
For the first few minutes Doodles did not feel quite acquainted with the
young woman in her smart new tailored suit, whom Mr. Gaylord called
Dorothy; but the stranger was soon lost in his dear “Dolly Moon,” and
the party was stowed away in the roomy car and off on the smooth road to
Fair Harbor.
It had at first been planned to leave Caruso with Granny O’Donnell; but
as the time of separation drew near, Doodles had felt so troubled for
fear some mishap might befall his pet, that the bird was wrapped up and
taken along with them. Blue had to peep into the cage now and then, to
satisfy Doodles that things were going well with his treasure; but the
report was always good, and the mocker reached the end of his first
automobile ride happy and ready to give thanks in a little carol.
The new “nest” was the second floor of a pleasant house in the suburbs,
and Mrs. Stickney looked with almost envying eyes on the beautiful
surroundings, wishing it were possible for her to give her children such
a healthful and well─located home. But longings were soon pushed out of
sight by the joyful inspection of the bride’s little domain, and the
hearing about the courtship and its resulting happiness, for all of
which the two most concerned felt that they owed a lasting debt to
Doodles.
On Saturday Lilith Brooks, a girl who lived on the first floor, came
upstairs to call on Blue and Doodles. She at once fell in love with
Caruso, who volunteered to do his share of the entertaining, and she
delighted Doodles by the praises she showered upon the songster.
Midway in the afternoon she appeared again, bringing with her a
schoolmate, whom she introduced as Polly Dudley.
“May your bird sing for Polly?” Lilith asked. “I do so want her to hear
him!”
“If he will,” answered Doodles, throwing shy glances towards the pretty
stranger.
But the mocker was not in an obliging mood, and had to be coaxed and
coaxed before he would even give a note.
Finally Blue began whistling “Annie Laurie,” and after it had been many
times repeated the bird joined in, to the unbounded delight of the
girls. Once started, he kept on, putting the young visitors into
raptures with his marvelous powers.
“Now you had better ask Doodles to sing,” called Mrs. Gaylord from the
dining─room.
“Oh, do!” the girls begged.
Without hesitation the boy commenced a favorite hymn, and at least one
of his audience was so surprised and captivated by his performance as to
sit motionless until the song was ended.
Then, while Lilith ran into exclamations of praise, Polly caught one of
Doodles’s hands, saying in her soft voice:—
“Does it tire you very much?”
“Oh, no! it never tires me to sing,” he smiled.
“Please sing something else, then! I love it!”
So the sweet, magnetic voice rose again,—this time in the haunting
little “Nae Room for Twa,” and afterwards Lilith pleaded for “more” and
still “more,” until Dorothy interposed out of sheer pity for Doodles.
“What a lovely, lovely boy!” cried Polly, when she had gone downstairs
with her friend.
“I think he’s awfully pretty,” Lilith returned.
“Yes, but not only that,—he has such a sweet way. And I never heard such
singing! I thought David Collins could sing better than any other boy.
But Doodles! Why, when he sat there singing that Christmas carol, all I
could think of was an angel!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Lilith rapturously, “with those dear little curls all
over his head, and his big brown eyes, wouldn’t he make a beautiful
angel for a tableau?”
“He is angel enough without the tableau,” Polly laughed. Then her face
saddened. “It is too bad he can’t walk! Hasn’t he ever?”
“Oh, yes! Mrs. Gaylord says he did until he was about four; then he had
a terrible fall, and he hasn’t taken a step since.”
“I wonder if father couldn’t cure him,” mused Polly.
“You think your father can cure everybody,” laughed Lilith.
“Well, he can—almost everybody!” maintained Polly. “I wish they’d let
father see him.”
“I guess they’ve tried a lot of doctors. Mrs. Gaylord told mamma that a
famous New York surgeon has just said he won’t ever be any better—isn’t
it awful?”
“I wish father could see him!” Polly insisted longingly.
“Do you think your father knows more than that big New York doctor?”
asked Lilith with a rallying laugh.
“Of course, he does! He has cured lots of children that those great
surgeons said couldn’t ever be!”
“You can ask your father to come and see him,” suggested Lilith.
“Oh, no, he never would!” Polly shook her head decidedly. “Unless they
asked him to,” she amended. “Say,” she broke out hurriedly, “isn’t that
Mr. Gaylord?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to see him!” Polly rushed into the hall as the car stopped
and a gray─coated man came up the steps.
“How nice to have two girlies to open the door for me! But this is a new
one,” smiling to Polly. “Miss Lilith, please present me!”
“Why, I s’posed Polly knew you, the way she jumped up and out here!”
Lilith laughed. “This is Polly Dudley, Dr. Dudley’s daughter, don’t you
know?”
“I have heard of her. Indeed, I am glad to have the privilege of meeting
the lassie of hospital fame. How do you do, Miss Polly of the Hospital
Staff?” He bowed low over Polly’s hand.
The girls laughed, and then Polly began abruptly:—
“Mr. Gaylord, I want to talk to you about that lovely little lame
boy—Doodles. I wish they’d let father see him! I think he could cure
him!”
Giles Gaylord drew a deep breath, and shook his head gravely.
“I’m afraid even your father couldn’t help him,” he replied. “I know Dr.
Dudley does wonderful things, but this is an extreme case.”
“He has just cured a little girl who hadn’t walked for two or three
years. Her father and mother had tried everybody, even had taken her
abroad to some famous surgeons over there—and father operated on her,
and now she is all right!”
“I am afraid his mother would never consent to an operation on such
uncertainties as must be.”
“Well, you might ask father what he thinks,” urged Polly. “I know he
wouldn’t charge anything for an examination.”
“I will suggest it, Miss Polly, and thank you! Even his mother could
hardly be gladder than I to see Doodles walk. I’ll talk it over with
them.”
The talk bore such good fruits that an examination was arranged for on
the following Monday, and Doodles spent Sunday in a state of bliss. God
was surely answering his prayers—He was going to let him walk! Next
morning he bade his mother and Blue an early good─bye, his face radiant
with joy.
The hour appointed was three in the afternoon, and Dorothy and Doodles
were waiting at a front window when Mr. Gaylord drove up. On the way the
boy wondered for the hundredth time how Dr. Dudley would look, if he
would wear epaulets, like the doctor at Hotel Royal, and whether he
would hurt him very, very much, or simply pass his hand up and down his
back, as the other doctor did.
“They are building a new hospital, or rather Mrs. Gresham is,” Dorothy
told him; “it is to be exclusively for children. In the meantime Dr.
Dudley is receiving patients in the house where he lives, but he cannot
accommodate many. I am glad you could get in so soon. You will like the
Doctor; everybody does.”
Doodles wondered if he were as nice as Polly. And then, before he had
time to ask, they whirled through a gateway and up to a door.
To the surprise of the little lad Dr. Dudley was a young man, and
instead of a gay uniform he wore a short white coat—without epaulets.
But Doodles liked him, just as Dorothy had said—his voice, his manner,
his smile. In fact, as soon as the Doctor took his hand his faith rose
to the joy point. He could not be thankful enough that he had “kept on.”
The examination was very different from the one at Hotel Royal. Several
times the physician’s gentle fingers caused sharp pain; but the lad shut
his teeth hard, and did not flinch.
“Have you never had any treatment?” Dr. Dudley asked,—“massage, rubbing,
or the like?”
“Only what mother does,” Doodles answered. “She always rubs me every
night, and in the morning when she has time.”
“I thought so,” he nodded. “Your legs are in better condition than legs
generally are when they have not been used for so long.”
“She has done it ever since I can remember,” volunteered Doodles.
“Good!” was the hearty response.
Presently the Doctor took up a curious three─part instrument, and
putting an end in each ear laid the other on the boy’s bare chest,—now
here, now there, until Doodles wondered if he were going all over in
that way. But no, it was only within a certain space.
“Absolutely sound!” Dr. Dudley turned to Mrs. Gaylord with a radiant
smile.
“Isn’t that fine!” she returned with a smile equally bright.
Doodles wondered why they were so delighted, but he did not like to ask.
In a few moments he was waiting on the couch in the reception room,
while Dr. Dudley and the Gaylords conversed with one another in the
adjoining office. A draught had drawn the door almost together, and only
fragments of the talk could be heard; but the boy patched them together
to make a startling whole.
“Good fighting chance ... always danger ... soon as possible ...
Wednesday morning ... walking in a month or two.”
By this time the eager listener was so excited that he failed to hear
anything further, and his eyes were unusually brilliant when the Doctor
said good─bye.
Dorothy Gaylord put her arm around Doodles, and drew him close, as they
spun along the smooth pavement.
“Did you hear what Dr. Dudley said?”
“A little,” he answered.
“Oh, sweetheart, he thinks you have such a good chance! He advises an
operation right away.”
The word sent instant terror to the brave little heart. This had not
been included in his wonderful bill of items.
“I am sure your mother will consent,” Dorothy went on, “everything looks
so favorable. Giles is going up to Foxford for her and Blue as soon as
he has taken us home, and they will stay all night. Your mother can see
the Doctor this evening, and arrange things with him. Dearest! won’t it
be beautiful if you can walk?” She squeezed the little form ever so
lightly.
“Beautiful!” was the soft echo—out of a trembling heart. Operation! What
were they planning to do to him? He had heard of operations—oh, yes, he
had heard of little else while his mother was sick! Everybody in The
Flatiron talked about them then. Why, Mrs. Corrigan said—it was too
horrible to think of! The boy tried to put it away, but it would come
back!
Mr. Gaylord had slight trouble in persuading Mrs. Stickney to permit
Doodles to go to the hospital. Had she not recently passed through a
successful operation herself? The probable chance of his being able to
walk was worth a little risk. When she saw Dr. Dudley she was ready to
agree to his wishes without an objection. The voice of Doodles was not
asked for, and the little lad kept silent.
Blue, with his keen perception, guessed something of his brother’s
fears.
“Don’t you be worryin’ about the operation, old feller! They’ll give you
something so you won’t feel it a bit!”
Give him something! The words were a knife! Doodles scarcely heard the
rest of what Blue was saying.
“Just think how jolly it’ll be when you and I play football together!”
The “football” did catch his ear. It made him smile. Yes, he would try
to think about football, as Blue bade him. What if they should cut him
in pieces! They would put him together again! If only Mrs. Corrigan
hadn’t said—never mind, others had borne it and he could!
The parting between Doodles and his mother threatened to be tearful on
both sides; but it was arrested by Blue’s shout that the car was there,
and in a moment the small boy was at the window waving his good─byes.
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