THE FIRST SNOW OF THE SEASON
The next time that Janice chanced to stop before the squatters’ cabin
in the woods, her welcome was very different from what it had ever been
before. Dr. Poole had been calling regularly to see the baby; he had
somehow overcome “Pappy’s” objection to medical attendance for the poor
little mite. And he had sung Janice’s praises and told how she had been
arrested for taking Buddy to town in her car.
Black-haired Virginia was quite heated over the matter. “I’d ha’ done
gone t’ town an’ told ’em what you done for Buddy, if I’d knowed about
it,” she declared to Janice. “That old Concannon man is the meanes’ ol’
critter! He owns this yere house, he does. I’d like to go an’ set fire
to his barns an’ burn ’em all up.”
“Oh, Virginia! don’t say such dreadful things!” begged Janice. “Think
how the poor animals in the barns would suffer if they burned.”
“I’d take the hawses an’ cows out fust,” observed Virginia; “but I’d
jest like t’ see the fire a-lickin’ up his barns.”
Janice had won a victory with Virginia. Their leader’s prompt
acceptance of the character of “Turncoat” amazed the rest of the
Trimmins tribe. Tom, the red-haired boy, would not believe that his
chief aid and abettor in all mischief had proclaimed a truce with
Janice and her motor-car.
But he very soon discovered that his sister’s present intentions
were not to be trifled with or ignored. Just before Janice appeared
before the cabin one day Virginia caught the red-haired little scamp
scattering broken bottles in the roadway. She went for him like a
cyclone, and when the car did arrive the two were rolling about on the
muddy ground, Tom striking out masterfully with his fists, while his
sister had her hands clenched in his hair, by the aid of which grip she
was battering his head into the soft earth.
“Dear me! Don’t! I beg of you, stop!” gasped Janice. “Oh, Virginia! you
might hurt him.” For Jinny had gotten on top of the red-haired one and
held him face downward in the mire.
“You kin bet I’ll hurt him,” she said, giving the red-head lad a
vicious wrench.
“Do let him up,” begged Janice.
“I’ll let him up when he promises to pick up ev’ry mite o’ glass he’s
flung in the road yonder. He wants t’ hear your tire go bust! I’ll bust
him!” declared Virginia, and began to maul the unfortunate Tom again.
But Janice leaped out and pulled her champion off the prostrate boy.
“Do let him get up. I’m sorry Tom doesn’t like me; but your pounding
him like this, Virginia, won’t make him fond of me; that’s sure!”
“He ain’t got no call to be fond o’ ye,” snarled the black-haired girl.
“But he’s goin’ t’ let you alone or I’ll give him wuss than he got now.”
“You wouldn’t ha’ done nothin’ t’ me if I’d been watchin’ out,”
sniveled Master Tom. “Ye jumped on me, that’s what ye did.”
“And I’ll jump on ye ag’in if ye don’t pick up that glass, ev’ry mite
of it!” threatened his sister.
“Wal, ain’t I goin’ to?” he growled, and commenced to remove the broken
bottles from the way. Janice thanked him when he had finished; but he
only hung his head and slouched away.
With Virginia and the mother, however, Janice had made herself welcome.
The unkempt and shiftless mother of this big brood of “Trimminses”
loved them and did her best for them; at least, while they were little.
At a certain age they really had to get out and do for themselves.
Most of the older boys disappeared, one at a time, from the cabin and
did not come back. The family heard of the wanderers occasionally. When
they were in funds they sometimes sent a little money home to their
mother; but they were not of the breed that gets ahead and is saving.
How could they be?
Some of the older girls had had a little schooling; but it was a
long way to Polktown and the district school was almost as far in
the opposite direction. Two of Virginia’s older sisters were out
at service; the family spoke of it in whispers as a misfortune and
disgrace. Mrs. Trimmins told Janice:
“There’s a lady over yonder likes our Phoebe Ann so much she ’vited
her t’ come an’ stop awhile. ’Course Phoebe Ann helps the lady; she
couldn’t do no less when the lady’s so kind t’ her. An’ ’Mandy, she’s
stoppin’ with Mrs. Jedge Wright in Middletown. There’s another gal
there, an’ they hev right good times goin’ t’ pitcher shows, an’
dances, an’ sech. Makes it nice fo’ ’Mandy, fo’ she’s of a right lively
disposition.”
“’Mandy and Phoebe Ann might bring us young’uns home some of the good
times they’re havin’,” Virginia confessed to Janice. “Bet if I ever git
my paws on any money I’ll git maw a new gownd an’ dress the baby up
fine. Pappy kyan’t more’n airn enough to feed us.”
“Pappy,” Janice seldom, if ever, saw. He was a long, lean, slow-moving
man, and whether Mrs. Scattergood’s opinion of his laziness was a just
one or not, he was seldom loafing about the cabin when Janice stopped
there.
The girl was satisfied for the time being regarding the Trimminses,
for she had established an unbreakable alliance with Virginia, and the
mother endured her for the baby’s sake. Virginia allowed herself to be
brought to the meeting of the Girls’ Guild. After she had been there
under Janice’s protection two or three times, she was willing to bring
her two sisters, Mayrie and Elsie. Virginia dominated them just as she
did the younger fry of the Trimmins household; they had to do whatever
the black-haired sister said.
The winter so far had been an open one. The snow held off, to the
amazement of “the oldest inhabitant”; but it was very cold and Janice
found the run back and forth to the seminary so trying that she did not
always come home the long way by the Trimmins cabin. Besides, Elder
Concannon never had a word for her now, only a scowl and a black look
when she passed him. The whole town had talked about his complaint
against Janice, and had not talked in his favor.
Indeed, Janice found herself quite a heroine after the hearing before
the Justice of the Peace; and the way people spoke to her about it made
her feel very uncomfortable. They seemed to think that she had done
some wonderful thing in getting the Trimmins’ baby to Dr. Poole’s in
time to save the poor little fellow’s life. She felt that anybody in
her place would have done the same, of course!
She did not realize that her desire to “_do something_” had brought her
into the position where she could help the unfortunate baby. Daddy’s
advice to her bore fruit most unexpectedly. She had become his “do
something girl” in very truth.
“Oh, if only I could do something for Daddy,” Janice said to herself.
Another letter had come from Mexico, and matters down there were no
better. She had written, asking her father if it wouldn’t be best for
him to come home and he had replied that it was his duty to stick to
his post. The Mexican authorities were getting very ugly, and the
guards at the mine had been increased. But Broxton Day wrote that she
must not worry. As if she could help it!
“I’d go down there myself, if it would do any good,” Janice confided to
Marty.
“Huh! you stay right here,” said her cousin. “They don’t want no
girl-folks down there, I bet you!”
“I know, Marty! But, oh! if something should happen to Daddy!” and
Janice’s face showed her deep anxiety.
In those early days of winter her time was so fully occupied that it
did not seem to Janice as though she had a waking minute to herself.
But she found time for frequent visits to Hopewell Drugg and Miss
’Rill. Little Lottie was often her companion in the car after school
hours and on Saturdays. The child was increasing in knowledge very
rapidly, for Miss ’Rill took great pains with her improvement.
Lottie was a very observant child and it was not long before she made
a discovery. Before she had gone away to be treated for her blindness
and other deficiencies, Nelson Haley was one of her greatest friends.
Now Lottie discovered that Nelson did not appear when Janice was at the
store. Even if he was at his boarding house across the street, he did
not come over to the store until Janice had gone away.
“What’s the matter with Mr. Haley?” she asked Janice, point-blank.
“I guess there is nothing the matter, my dear,” said the older girl. “I
haven’t heard that there was.”
“But he used to be here so much,” declared Lottie, “and now he’s never
here when you come.”
“I expect he’s too busy with his school to bother with girls,” laughed
Janice.
“But he didn’t used to be,” said the child, very thoughtfully. “If you
came to see me he was almost sure to come, too.”
“And doesn’t he come to see you now?” asked Janice quietly.
“Oh, yes! And he’s awfully nice to me. But he never comes when you’re
here. Say, Janice! are you mad at him?”
“Not at all, my dear.”
“Then he must be mad at you,” declared the little girl, with
confidence. “What for, do you suppose, Janice?”
But Janice could not satisfy her childish curiosity. Indeed, she did
not see how she could talk about the differences between Nelson and
herself to little Lottie.
“I tell you what,” Lottie said, with decision, “I’m going to ask him.”
“Oh! I wouldn’t, my dear!” gasped Janice.
“Why not? Don’t you want to be friends with Mr. Haley?”
“Yes, of course,” admitted the older girl.
“Then we’ll ask him what he’s got a mad on for,” decided the child
briskly.
Janice would not go over to Mrs. Beasely’s with her and make the
inquiry on the spot, and Lottie thought that strange.
“Perhaps sometime we may,” was all the satisfaction the little one
gained from Janice. But when she had gone away Lottie proceeded to put
her suggestion into execution. She went over to see Nelson in his study.
“Hullo, Lottie Drugg!” cried the school teacher jovially. “Are you
ready to take up algebra and the higher mathematics yet? You know, I’m
going to be your schoolmaster when Miss ’Rill graduates you.”
“I can say the multiplication table pretty good,” Lottie confessed.
“Guess that isn’t very far along the way to higher math’matics, is it?”
“Not very, I am afraid. But it’s a beginning,” Nelson assured her
gravely.
Lottie was standing directly in front of his desk now, and fixed him
seriously with her blue-eyed gaze.
“Say, Mr. Haley!” she exclaimed, “have you got a mad on at Janice?”
“‘A mad on’? And at Janice?” he murmured, rather begging the question.
She had taken him by surprise, and Nelson Haley blushed.
“You don’t ever come to the store when she’s there no more,” declared
the child, shaking her head. “You used to take her to walk and I used
to go with you; don’t you ’member? I used to hold your hands and walk
between you, ’cause I couldn’t see; you ’member? And we used to go down
to try if my echo was there. And you and Janice used to talk a lot.”
“So we did--so we did,” agreed Nelson, in a low voice, looking away
from her.
“Then why don’t we go to walk any more?” pleaded the child. “Can’t you
come to see me when Janice is there?”
“Sometime--sometime I’ll come,” said Nelson uncomfortably. “You know
I’m dreadfully busy.”
“That’s what she says. Janice says you are drefful busy. But you can
come to see me when she isn’t there. Why can’t we all be friends again?
You ain’t got a mad on at her, have you?”
“God forbid!” exclaimed the young man, with sudden warmth.
“Then has she got a mad on at you?” demanded Lottie.
“Perhaps. I don’t know. I can’t talk about it, my dear,” Nelson said
hastily. “I guess Janice doesn’t care to have me about very much now.
She’s always got Mr. Bowman with her, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, he does come a lot,” agreed Lottie. “He’s a real nice young man,
I think. But he isn’t like you, Mr. Haley; and I guess Janice misses
you jus’ as I do.”
“No. You’re wrong there, my dear, I feel sure,” said Nelson hastily.
“She doesn’t miss me. But I’ll come and see you whenever I can, Lottie.”
It was never, however, while Janice was at the store. Nelson saw
to that. And every time he observed Janice with Frank Bowman the
insinuations of the latter’s sister rose in Haley’s mind. The teacher
had never made friends to any degree with the young civil engineer; but
he remained in close association with Annette. He seemed, indeed, to be
more frequently her companion than was her own brother.
On the Sunday evening following little Lottie’s attempt to bring her
two friends together again, Haley and Annette drifted into the back
of the vestry of the church and sat through the prayer and conference
meeting. There was really nowhere else to go on Sunday evenings, or
Annette could not have been coaxed into the church. Polktown frowned
severely on anything like social gatherings on the Sabbath Day.
Toward the end of the service two or three boys, among them Marty, came
in brushing the snowflakes off their shoulders and caps. Ma’am Parraday
had a huge green umbrella that she insisted upon holding over Annette’s
hat after service. The snow was coming then thick and fast. But when
Miss Bowman saw Nelson beside Janice in the doorway and starting to
speak to her in a low voice, she made a point of calling her cavalier
back to her side.
“There’s plenty of room for three of us under Ma Parraday’s umbrella,
Mr. Haley,” Annette called, with a laugh. “Come on, now! we must hasten
home.”
Haley shrugged his shoulders impatiently. But he opened Janice’s
umbrella and thrust it into the younger girl’s hand. Of course, as he
had come with Annette, he must see her home, such being the unwritten
law of the community.
Janice started off rather blindly through the snow, holding the
umbrella low to hide her smarting eyes. It seemed as though every time
she and Nelson had a chance to come to an understanding, Annette
Bowman or Frank came between them. She had no suspicion of the little
scene between the school teacher and the engineer’s sister when they
arrived at the Lake View Inn and were warming themselves before the
open fire in the parlor.
“Annette, you are a terribly ‘bossy’ girl,” grumbled Nelson. “Nothing
suits you but having folks go your way all the time. You didn’t need me
to come home with you. You had Mrs. Parraday.”
“And you wanted to go with that Janice Day,” said Annette, with a hard
laugh.
“Well, what if I did? She and I were very good friends long before you
came to Polktown. I’ve been spending a lot of my time with you.”
“Just as though you didn’t want to! You’re awfully polite--I don’t
think!”
“Now, don’t get on your high horse,” said Nelson coolly. “You know you
don’t care a fig for my company. You just like to have a whole lot
of fellows hanging around. That’s what made trouble for you with Jim
Brainard.”
“You just stop!” commanded Annette, flushing hotly. “You’ve no right to
criticize my conduct, as he did.”
“No, thank heaven!” rejoined Nelson Haley, with more emphasis than
courtesy. “But don’t you see, Annette, that your foolish way of acting
with other fellows is what has made trouble for you? I’d like to see
you----”
“You just mind your own business, Nelson Haley!” snapped Annette. “I
don’t care! I don’t care what folks think of me, or what they say!” and
she burst into a torrent of tears and rushed from the room.
“Humph!” muttered the teacher, as he left for his boarding place.
“Guess I’m always putting my foot in it. And it does seem as though
whenever I start to try and make it up with Janice, either Annette or
her brother interferes. Confound it!” and he shrugged down into the
collar of his coat and plodded on through the gathering storm.