THE FUND GROWS
They parted from Brose Wilkins half an hour later. The work of fixing
up the _Pequot Queen_ for Miss Comfort’s accommodation seemed shorn
of all difficulties. They were to start in the morning on the gangway
between boat and shore, Bob supplying the material and Brose the tools.
“Better get that up first,” said the latter, “so’s you can get aboard
without wading. You don’t need to bring much material, fellers. There’s
a pile of second-hand stuff over on our wharf we can make use of.
Don’t forget the spikes, though. I ain’t got any spikes. Well, see you
fellers again.”
Brose pushed off the launch with a foot, jumped nimbly aboard, and
waved a long, lean hand. And just then Laurie remembered something.
“Hold on,” he called. “We haven’t paid you!”
“To-morrow,” said Brose. “It won’t be but seventy-five cents, anyway;
just the worth of that hawser. That tow ain’t going to cost anything
now I know who I done it for!”
The launch broke into sound and disappeared momentarily around the
stern of the _Pequot Queen_. When they saw it again Brose was draped
over the little engine, squirting oil.
I fear that Laurie begrudged Kewpie the two sessions of pitching-practice
that day. Certain it is that the afternoon session was shortened to a
scant thirty minutes, after which four boys set forth on a shopping
expedition, armed with a list that Laurie had made after dinner. Still
later they joined Polly and Mae at the shop. Progress was reported and
plans for the next day laid. Then Bob treated the crowd, Kewpie
virtuously choosing a ginger-ale.
To their disappointment, a light rain was falling that Thursday morning
when the four boys set forth for the _Pequot Queen_. Ned trundled a
wheelbarrow laden with lumber, and the others each carried a couple of
two-by fours or planks. Ned’s load also included a paper bag of iron
spikes, two hammers, and a hatchet. They chose Ash Street in preference
to the busier thoroughfares and, because the lumber on the wheelbarrow
was continually falling off and the burdens on the boys’ shoulders
required frequent shifting, their progress was slow. The rain wasn’t
hard, but it was steady, and Ned, who had arisen in a depressed state
of mind, grumbled alternately at the weather and the wheelbarrow. They
scarcely expected to find Brose Wilkins on hand when they reached the
boat, but there he was awaiting them. Laurie introduced Ned and Kewpie,
and work began.
By eleven o’clock a gangway led from the bank to the deck of the
_Pequot Queen_. Or, if you liked, you could call it a bridge. It was
twenty-six feet in length and thirty-two inches wide, and it was
supported midway by two posts which Brose had driven into the sand. It
was railed on each side so that, even in the dark, Miss Comfort could
traverse it safely. Later it was to be painted, the planking green and
the hand-rails white. At least, that was what Brose said, and since
Brose seemed to have taken command of operations no one doubted the
assertion. Ned and Kewpie, who had been to Walnut Street on an errand,
arrived just as the last plank was laid, and the five drew up on
the bank and admired the gangway. Of course, as the material was all
second-hand, the job didn’t possess the fine appearance that new lumber
lends. A stern critic might even have sneered at the joinery, for
Brose Wilkins worked with speed rather than accuracy, and the gangway
reminded Laurie a little of Brose’s launch. But it was strong and
practical, and none of the admirers were inclined to be fastidious. On
the contrary the boys were loud in commendation, even Laurie and Bob,
who had wielded saw and hammer under Brose’s direction, praised the
result highly. Then they all walked along it to the deck and solemnly
and approvingly walked back again to the shore. As Bob said proudly, it
didn’t even creak.
They spent an hour clearing the boat of the worst of the dirt and
rubbish, preparatory to the more careful going over to follow in the
afternoon, and finally they parted from Brose and climbed the hill
again.
There was no pitching-practice that forenoon.
Shortly after half-past one they went to Mrs. Deane’s, reported
progress to Miss Comfort, borrowed two pails, a broom, a
scrubbing-brush, and a mop, and returned to the scene of their labors.
Brose was again ahead of them. He had taken down the smoke-stack and
was covering the hole in the roof with a piece of zinc sheeting. “I
was thinking,” he explained, “that she might want to use this place
for something, and there was a lot of water coming in around that old
funnel. After I paint around the edges of this it’ll be tight.” Brose
drove a last flat-headed nail and swung his legs over the side of the
boiler-room. “I was thinking that maybe she’d like to keep a few hens
in here.”
“_Hens!_” cried the quartet below in incredulous chorus.
Brose nodded. “Yeah, she was always fond of hens, Miss Pansy. Used to
have quite a lot of ’em until her fences got sort of bad and they took
to wandering into other folks’ yards. There wouldn’t be much trouble
here, I guess. They could go ashore and wander as much as they pleased
and not hurt anything.”
Ned broke into laughter. “Can’t you see Miss Comfort’s hens filing
ashore every morning with a big red rooster in the lead?”
“Sure,” agreed Brose. “Put up half a dozen nests and a couple of
roosts across here and you’d have a fine chicken-house. Anyhow, no harm
in stopping the leak.”
“I dare say she can use it for something, anyhow,” said Laurie.
“If it was me,” said Kewpie, “I’d keep ducks. Look at all the water
they’d have!”
For better than an hour dust flew from bow to stern on the _Pequot
Queen_, and the scrape of the scrubbing-brush and the slap of the mop
sounded from cabin, deck, and wheel-house. To introduce water into the
boiler room would have made matters only worse there, for the floor and
even the walls were black with coal-dust. They cleaned out the fire-box
and used the broom repeatedly and closed the doors on the scene. But
by four o’clock the rest of the boat was thoroughly clean, and only
sunlight and warmth were needed to complete the work. The rather worn
linoleum on the cabin floor looked very different after Bob’s scrubbing
brush and Kewpie’s mop had got through with it. Even the paint in there
had been won back to a fair semblance of whiteness. By that time Polly
and Mae, released from school, had also arrived, and the _Pequot
Queen_ resounded to eager voices. The rain had ceased and beyond the
hills westward the gray clouds were breaking when, carrying pails and
mop, broom and brush, the party of six went back to the shop in merry
mood.
It had been very hard to keep Miss Comfort away from her new home thus
far, and, since they wanted to have everything in shape before she saw
it, they didn’t recount to her all that had been accomplished. “You
see, ma’am,” said Laurie, “she was pretty dirty, and――”
“But I’ll attend to the cleaning,” declared Miss Comfort eagerly. “Land
sakes, I don’t expect you boys to do that!”
“No, ma’am, well, now you take that hen――I mean boiler-room. That
wouldn’t be any sort of work for you.”
“But it doesn’t seem right to let you young folks do so much. Why, just
look at the boy’s shoes! They’re soaking wet!”
“Oh, Kewpie doesn’t mind that, Miss Comfort. Besides, I guess it’s just
outside that’s wet. Isn’t it, Kewpie?”
Kewpie moved his foot once or twice experimentally and obtained a
gentle squishing sound. He nodded. “That’s all,” he said.
“But,” resumed Laurie, “I guess we’ll have everything ready for you by
Saturday noon. I thought we might get the stove down that morning and
put it up. Then, maybe, on Monday you could move in!”
“You don’t think I could get settled Saturday?” pleaded Miss Comfort.
“I’d so love to spend Sunday in my――my new home.”
Laurie silently consulted the others and read assent. “Why, yes, ma’am,
I think we could have everything all ready by, say, half-past ten or
eleven.”
“That would be much nicer,” exclaimed Polly, “for then we could all
help get the things arranged.”
“Oh, thank you,” cried Miss Comfort gratefully. “To-morrow I’ll engage
Peter Brown to move my things Saturday morning. And to think that it
won’t be to the poor-farm! I told Mr. Grierson yesterday about it. He’s
one of the overseers, you know. He seemed――almost――almost put out, and
I thought for a moment he was going to insist on my going to that
place after all.” Miss Comfort laughed softly. “He said he had been
‘counting on me.’”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Laurie, “you go ahead and arrange for the team for
Saturday at about ten thirty, and we’ll see that the place is all
ready, won’t we, Polly?”
“Yes, indeed, we will, Miss Comfort, even if we have to――to work all
night! Mae and I don’t have to go to school again for a week after
to-morrow, and we can do lots of things for you, I’m sure.”
“You’ve done so much already, my dear, all of you!” Miss Comfort
sighed, but it was a happy sigh. “I don’t know how to thank you, I’m
sure. It does seem as if――as if――” She faltered then, and before she
could continue Laurie got to his feet somewhat noisily and the others
followed suit.
“Got to go along,” he said hurriedly. “Change Kewpie’s feet――shoes, I
mean. Might take cold. See you in the morning, folks.”
Laurie made his escape, followed by the others, sighing relief. Outside
on the bricks, Kewpie’s shoes _squished_ beautifully, but Kewpie was
frowning. “I like the old soul,” he announced, “but, say, she’s awful
leaky around the eyes!”
“So you’d be if you were seventy years old and folks were――were kind
to you and――and all that sort of thing,” replied Laurie gruffly and
vaguely. “Folks get that way when they’re old; sort of grateful and
tearful. They can’t help it, I guess!”
It was still well short of supper-time, and so they stopped at Bob’s to
see the tennis-court. The surface layer was almost finished, and two
sturdy posts for the net, startlingly, shiningly green, had been sunk.
While they admired, Mr. Starling joined them from the house, and Laurie
thanked him for his assistance with the quarry company.
“Glad to have helped, Laurie,” replied Bob’s father. “And that reminds
me. Seen the pear-trees?”
“Pear-trees? No, sir. Not to――to notice them.”
“Come and look at them.” Mr. Starling led Laurie around the corner of
the new court and along the further walk to where a few fruit-trees,
their branches still bare, occupied one corner of the garden. Laurie
viewed the trees interestedly, but failed to note anything remarkable,
and he turned to his guide for enlightenment. Mr. Starling was
selecting two bills from a long black wallet, keeping his back to the
others. He thrust the bills into Laurie’s hand.
“We’d like to help a little, my sister and I,” he said. “Use that in
any way you like, Laurie, but you needn’t say where it came from. If
you need more, let me know.”
“But we don’t really need it, sir,” protested the boy. “We’ve got
twelve dollars, and I don’t believe――”
“Put it in your pocket,” insisted Mr. Starling. “You can find some way
of using it for Miss Comfort’s――er――comfort!” He raised his voice.
“Look promising, don’t they? Lots of fruit this year, I guess. Thomas
is quite a gardener, if you take his word for it.” He turned Laurie
about with a hand on his shoulder and paced back toward the others. “We
feel sort of sorry for that little woman,” he added, lowering his voice
again. “Hard to pull up stakes at her age, I guess. Ought to do what we
can for her, Laurie. Come to me again if you need some more.”
At supper Dr. Hillman asked the twins to come to his study, and there
he produced a pink slip of paper from a desk drawer and handed it
to Laurie. “My sister and I have wanted to help ever since we first
learned of Miss Comfort’s――ah――embarrassment, but have been somewhat
at a loss to know how to do so. She is greatly averse to anything
resembling charity, as you probably know. To-day we heard of your
interest in the matter, Laurence, and of your――ah――ingenious solution
of the lady’s problem, and it occurred to us that if we handed a small
contribution to you you would doubtless be able to use it to advantage
and at the same time――ah――consider it confidential.”
“Twenty-five more!” exclaimed Laurie when they were back in No. 16.
“Forty from Mr. Starling. Seventy-seven in all! What’ll we do with it?”
“Blessed if I know!” replied Ned, “unless we install steam heat and
open plumbing!”