handed him to do some of the rowing, and he didn't look at the owner of the
boat, till, just as they neared the bank, he glanced up suddenly and said:
"Say, you, I s'pose you'll tell on us."
"What do you take me for?" cried Joel, in extreme disgust, and plying his
oar briskly. All this time the rain had come down in torrents, till there
wasn't much difference between the boys who had been in the water and the
one who had kept out, and the lightning played over their heads in
unpleasant zigzag streaks, and the thunder rolled and rumbled.
The leader shivered and ducked till he couldn't by any possibility be said
to look at Joel.
"Well, I would if I was you." The words came in a burst from a boy supposed
to be in such a half-drowned condition that he wouldn't care to take part
in any conversation, who was crouched down in the bottom of the boat. "I'd
tell every single thing about it." He raised himself and shook his fist at
the leader's very face. "If it hadn't been for you, Mike," he said, "we
wouldn't have come."
"Don't fight," said Joel, in consternation at any such settling of their
differences in his boat; "you'll upset us all."
"Humph!" the boy in the bottom of the boat sneered. "He won't fight, Mike
won't," he said.
And really Mike didn't look as if he would, for he crouched and cowered
lower yet, till Joel began to say, "Give me the oar," for it wabbled so
that it played a small part only in getting the craft to the shore.
"Some other fellow take it," said the boy who had done all the talking. "I
would"--he lifted a red and ashamed face--"only my arm----"
"Is it hurt?" asked Joel, rescuing the other oar from Mike, whose nerves
seemed to have all gone to pieces.
"D'no; never mind," said the other boy, looking more ashamed still. "Here,
Jimmy, you take the oar, and row lively now." So, with Jimmy's help, the
boat ran up to the bank.
"There you are," cried Joel, as they were dumped out, to keep company with
the big, black dog, who sniffed them contemptuously and walked around their
dripping bodies as they sank on the bank. This wasn't the kind of fun he
had meant when he followed his master out, and not at all to his taste.
But Joel was just in his element, and when he brought the rest off from the
overturned boat, he couldn't conceal his satisfaction.
"Some one has got to tell about that boat." He pointed to the overturned
one.
"I knew you would blab." Mike turned, his shame disappearing, to grow red
with passion.
"Shut up." It was the other boy that roared at him, who, injured arm or
not, could somehow inspire the former leader with fear. "I'm going to tell
myself; an' if any of you fellows has got spunk, he'll tell, too." It was
such a battle cry that Mike's head went down. He knew as well as afterward
that his leadership was gone, and that every one of the crew had gone over
to the other boy.
"Hi--yes, we'll tell." If Jack, their new leader, could decide to, they
would follow him, and they yelled it out much better than any one would
suppose possible after their fright, turning their backs on Mike.
"That's good," said Joel, bobbing his black curls, from which the rain was
streaming, at the whole bunch of boys in approval, and taking up his oars
he prepared to move off. "If you'll only tell about the boat."
"Oh, I say"--Jack seeing that he was now the recognized leader, was going
to do the whole thing up in good shape--"we're much obliged, and who are
you, anyway?" he broke off awkwardly.
"I'm Mr. King's grandson," said Joel "Well, good-bye."
"Mr. King's!" Jack gave a roll over and groveled in the wet moss. "Oh, it's
all up with us, fellows," he groaned. The black dog, who belonged to him,
came and licked him all over, glaring between whiles at Joel, as if he were
the cause of the whole trouble. The bunch of boys said nothing, but
shivered in silence.
"Well, good-bye," said Joel, as he pushed off, feeling it necessary for
some one to speak, "and I hope you haven't hurt your arm much," to the
recumbent figure.
"Don't let him hurt these chaps--your grandfather I mean." Jack threw up
his head and pointed to the boys. "Only get Mike licked. We'd all of us
like that."
"What?" cried Joel over his shoulder, stopping his busy oars.
"Why, when you tell him how mean we used you, don't let him get those chaps
into trouble, 'cause----"
"When I tell him!" cried Joel. "What do you mean?"
"Why, of course you'll tell him," blurted Jack. Mike had taken to his heels
and was making quick tracks with his sodden shoes through the undergrowth.
Things were not going to his taste now.
"See here." Joel made quick passes now with the oars, and brought his boat
up alongside the bank. "I'm not going to tell my Grandpapa about what
you've done, 'Tisn't any matter."
"You ain't?" cried Jack, getting up so quickly he upset the next boy, who
rolled over the big, black dog. "Great Scott! You ain't going to tell the
old gentleman?"
"No," said Joel, "I don't care anything about it; you didn't hurt me any."
"Well, if I ever!" It was all that Jack, the leader, could get out. And
Joel, seeing there was nothing to wait for, set to work again, and
presently amid the rain and the lightning gleams, his boat was only a
little speck on the surface of the pond, as viewed by the group of boys on
the bank.
XVIII
THE COMFORT COMMITTEE
"Oh, Mary!" Eleanor Keep seized Miss Taylor's arm and burst into tears.
When she could speak she gasped, "What is it, Mary?"
"Hush!" warned Mary Taylor, drawing her off into the little reception-room.
"Your mother--we must think of her, Nell."
"Mr. Delafield is telling her something. I know it is dreadful." Eleanor
sank upon the sofa, dragging Mary Taylor with her. "Oh, I shall die if you
don't tell me right off what _has_ happened, Mary."
"Not a word shall you hear until you can control yourself," declared Miss
Taylor, wresting herself away from the nervous grasp, and running over to
the door she closed it. "Now then, Nell, are you a sensible girl?"--coming
back.
Eleanor flung herself down on the sofa, and sobbed:
"Oh, I know Larry is dead and you are trying to keep it from me."
"Larry is not dead," said Mary Taylor.
"Well, he is terribly hurt," said Eleanor, between her sobs. "Oh dear, my
only brother, Larry!"
Mary Taylor got down on her knees by the sofa, and took the poor head up to
let her own tears fall over it.
"Why, you are crying yourself," exclaimed Eleanor, feeling the drops
trickle down her neck. "And you told me not to. Why, Mary Taylor!"
"Of course I am," said Mary. "Now see here: we are both of us very wrong to
give way in this fashion; we ought to be seeing to your mother. Get up,
Eleanor," and she sprang to her feet. "There, that's right. Come on."
Some one rapped at the side door, and the confusion in the house calling
the maids from their duty, the butler belonging to the establishment of the
next neighbor, Mrs. Sterling, popped in his head.
"Excuse me, Miss," he said to Mary Taylor, Eleanor being beyond a reply.
"Mrs. Sterling has sent for you ladies to come in there and stay until the
doctors are through."
At the word "doctors" Eleanor shivered and covered her eyes.
"The very thing," said Mary Taylor; "we'll get your mother in there"; and
with a message back to Mrs. Sterling the two young ladies hurried off, and
before Larry's mother quite knew how, she was in the beautiful upper room
of the stately brownstone mansion, and face to face with its invalid
mistress, condemned for years to lie on her sofa.
"I do believe," said Mrs. Sterling, putting out a soft hand, "that
everything will be much better than you think. We shall soon have cheering
news, I feel quite sure. Gibson, draw up the easy-chair, so--that's right."
Gibson quietly did as bidden, and Mrs. Keep sank into it, and laid down her
head with the air of one quite done with the world. To add to the gloom, a
terrible thunderstorm broke suddenly.
"Now give me your hand." Mrs. Sterling leaned over and drew it within her
own. Seeing all things going on so well, Mary Taylor and Eleanor drew off
into the hall.
"Young ladies," said Gibson, coming out softly, "wouldn't you wish to go
down into the drawing-room? Mistress would like to have you make yourselves
comfortable. The storm is pretty heavy, and I'll light the gas."
"Oh, no, no," said Eleanor, shrinking at the invitation. "Mary, don't let's
go," she whispered; "I should die there in that big, stiff room."
"We'll sit just here," said Mary Taylor. "Come on, Nell," and down they
both got on the top stair, huddling up together, while the storm raged
outside in its fury.
"Oh, young ladies!" exclaimed Gibson, starting, "I'll get you some chairs
if you want to sit in the hall."
"We like this," said Mary Taylor; "please, Gibson, don't feel troubled." So
Gibson went back to her mistress' room, and Mary put her arm around
Eleanor, and patted her hair as she cuddled up to her neck.
"Mary, I like you so much," sobbed Eleanor, in a muffled voice, "because
you don't try to say something to comfort me."
Mary kept on patting the pretty hair, with anxious ears for the messenger
to come from the Keep household. Presently out came Gibson again.
"I'm going out to bring in those boys," she said; "Mistress wants it."
"What boys?" asked Mary quickly.
"The whole of them," said Gibson; "they've been hanging around ever since
Master Larry was brought home, and----"
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Eleanor faintly.
"And Mrs. Sterling wants them invited in here to wait?" exclaimed Mary.
"How kind of her! Now, then, Nell, that's work for you and for me: we must
help those boys to get a little comfort"--as Gibson went quickly down the
long stairs on her errand.
"Oh, I can't," cried Eleanor, burrowing into the soft neck.
"Yes, you can."
"I'm his sister. And you can't expect me to see them."
"Yes, I do," said Mary firmly; "it's exactly what you ought to do. I'm
going down to welcome them, and you must come too. Come on, Eleanor; we've
simply got to do it."
Eleanor, seeing nothing for it unless she were to be left alone on her
stair, which would have been the last thing to be endured, got up and
followed slowly, to be met at the big door leading to the side porch by the
company of gloomy-faced boys.
"Well boys," said Mary cheerfully, "I'm glad you've come to help Eleanor
and me."
Every boy looked up in great surprise, for they all supposed they were left
to comfort themselves.
"Can't we sit in the dining-room?" asked Mary, with a thought for the
cheerful red carpet and curtains.
"Mistress wants them to come up into her sitting-room," said Gibson.
"Her sitting-room!" exclaimed Mary.
"Yes, Miss. She says they can help Mrs. Keep and her," said Gibson,
standing with folded hands deferentially, but yet quite expecting the
command to be carried out.
The boys stood up a little taller yet. Evidently they were thought worthy
of consideration in the way of administering consolation instead of hanging
around, useless creatures in everybody's way.
"In that case," said Mary Taylor, "we'll all go upstairs at once."
So they all filed up the long flight, and Gibson held open the door, and
Mrs. Sterling from her sofa called out, "Boys, yon don't know how glad I am
to see you all." And just as they began to feel a little bit of hope down
in their hearts, it was so much easier all bearing the suspense together, a
light tripping step came up the staircase, and little Doctor Fisher's big
spectacles were thrust in the doorway.
"Just right. Very sensible." He beamed at them all, and darted over and
took the poor mother's hand.
"Your boy is all right," he said. "His collar bone is broken, to be sure,
but it is a beautiful fracture. And he has some bruises. Thank the Lord it
is no worse."
There was a rustle back of him. Then two or three boys broke from the group
and fell upon him in the rear.
"Is that true?" the foremost one shouted.
"Eh?"--little Doctor Fisher whirled around--"yes indeed, true as gospel.
Oh, see here now," as the whole bunch made a mad plunge for the hall. "Come
back here, boys."
Every single one came slowly back, except Frick; he had cleared the space
to the top of the stairs, and was now making his quickest time on record
down the flight.
"You are not to cheer; I see you want to," and Doctor Fisher gave a little
laugh.
"Yes, sir," Curtis Park answered for the rest.
"Well, you----"
"Doctor Fisher"--it was Mrs. Sterling who interrupted, and she smiled--"I
should very much like to hear that cheer now."
_"Ma'am!"_ exclaimed the little doctor, gazing at her over his
spectacles.
"Oh, it would do me good, I assure you," said Mrs. Sterling, leaning back
in a satisfied way against her pillows. "So, if you please, boys, let me
hear it at once"--smiling at them.
And they gave it then and there, the poor mother in all this confusion
getting time to recover herself.
And then three more for the little doctor. And then one of the boys, the
least likely to have courage to propose it, piped out:
"Let's give her three"--pointing to the hostess.
How pleased the poor invalid was, and how she beamed at them all! And when
Doctor Fisher saw that, he was so well satisfied that he shook hands with
them all quite around the circle.
"Now I must go. I'll look in again on your boy in an hour. Madam"--to Mrs.
Keep. "Meantime, I'd stay over here, for I've sent for a nurse from the
hospital; he must be kept quiet a spell. Good-day," and he was off.
"Now, boys"--there was a pretty pink spot in either cheek, as Mrs. Sterling
turned to them--"do you know, I've thought of a plan by which you might do
something for Lawrence?"
"What--oh, what?" They crowded up to her sofa. Gibson, from the doorway
where she had retreated, to be within call, looked a little anxious, but
catching a glance from her mistress, smoothed out her face again.
"What is your plan?" asked Curtis. It really seemed as if the boys had been
accustomed to gather in that room, by the way in which they now crowded up
as comrades entering into anything that might be proposed.
"You know that before long Lawrence will be able to see you, we hope,"
began Mrs. Sterling, in her cheeriest way. "Gibson, push up that pillow a
little more."
"Oh, I will," cried Curtis, springing forward.
Gibson, in great trepidation at any one performing the office for her
mistress, started to do it, but Curtis was already most gallantly, if a
trifle awkwardly, pushing up the pillow, giving it a rousing thump that got
on the nerves of the maid.
"You should have waited for me," she said tartly.
"Never mind; that is all right." Mrs. Sterling smiled up at him where he
stood, the hot blood in his face, and his eyes downcast. "I'm very much
obliged to you, Curtis. I guess you are accustomed to do it for your
mother," she said encouragingly.
"I do--I am," he said incoherently, beginning to feel better. It was only
Gibson who was cross, he reflected; Mrs. Sterling herself was as nice as
she could be.
"Well now, if I were you," said Mrs. Sterling, turning on her pillow to get
a good look at them all, "I'd form a committee, a comfort committee, to
think up things that will interest Lawrence. And by and by the doctor is
going to let you go to see him, and----"
"What things?" The small boy who had proposed the cheers for Mrs. Sterling,
now pushed to the front, so as to get a good look at her. "Tell me, please,
what things?"
"Well, you can cut out funny things from the magazines and papers for one
thing," said Mrs. Sterling, quite delighted at the success of her plan so
far, "and the nurse can read them to him."
"I've got a lot of _Punch_ numbers," cried one boy.
"And _Life,_" said another.
"And oceans of magazines." They all shouted one thing, and another. Gibson,
who by this time was tired of popping her head in and out, had withdrawn to
a little room opening out of her mistress' apartment, and taken up her
sewing, quite convinced that far from its being a cause for alarm,
everything was going on finely.
"Well now, just see how much pleasure that will give him," Mrs. Sterling
was saying.
"What else?" asked the small boy.
"Then has any one of you any puzzles?" asked Mrs. Sterling, "or conundrums?
Don't you think that is fine, to have something to think of beside dismal
things, when you lie in bed?"
Curtis Park was just in his element here, for he dearly loved puzzles and
conundrums. And presently Mrs. Sterling and he were busily talking over
this and that kind, and book, and collection, until finally the small boy
pulled the fringe of her pink crocheted shawl.
"I want to know what else?"
"Dear me!" Mrs. Sterling looked up quickly, to give a little laugh. It
wasn't loud, but so cheery and sweet that Gibson, in the little outer room,
dropped her sewing in her lap. "Thank the Lord!" she said, and wiped her
eyes.
Frick, meanwhile, too excited to hear the doctor call them to come back,
had darted out of the house, with no thought for the rain, but with one
wild desire--to find Joel Pepper. And as he had a perfect faculty for
sprinting, and cut through, with a dash, all the cross-streets, he soon
found himself for the second time that day at the King mansion.
But this second time he was no more fortunate than the first. For although
he was willingly admitted to Mr. King's writing-room, it was to see that
gentleman look up and say with the most genial of smiles:
"Ah, Frick, my boy, well, this time it's all right, isn't it, since I let
Joel go down to you?"
"Joel hasn't been with us," blurted out Frick, Then he leaned against the
big writing-table, speech all gone, for he began to feel terribly tired,
and it had been nothing but one long disappointment all day.
Old Mr. King laid down his pen and looked Frick all over.
"Oh, no, he hasn't," declared Frick, shaking his head dismally; "we haven't
any of us seen him, and Larry Keep has been run over by Mr. MacIlvaine's
tallyho, and most smashed up." Then he stopped suddenly, his cup of woe
being empty.
"The first thing to do is to find Joel," said Mr. King to himself,
anxiously. "The storm is almost over, to be sure"--glancing out of the
window--"but where can he be?" He hurried across the room and touched the
electric button. "You haven't the least idea, Frick, where to look for him,
eh?"
"No, sir," said Frick miserably.
Thomas popped his head in, to be given the order to have one of the
rainy-day carriages brought round. Just then, in ran Jasper. He had been
caught by the sudden shower over at Pickering Dodge's.
"Father," he cried, his face glowing, "I've come home as soon as it slacked
up a bit. Why, you are not going out?"--seeing the old gentleman beginning
to don his mackintosh.
"Yes, I am," said Mr. King grimly, "going to do just that very thing,
Jasper."
"Oh, let me, Father." Jasper sprang to his side eagerly, then looked in a
puzzled way over to Frick.
"It's Joel," said Frick, feeling that it was expected of him to furnish an
answer.
"Joel?" cried Jasper, the color going out of his cheek.
"Yes, Joel can't be found," said old Mr. King, speaking lightly to hide the
dismay he really felt. "It's all right, of course; he's probably at one of
the boys' houses; only as he was to join Frick, why, I'd prefer to look him
up a bit. Well, there's Thomas"--glancing out of the window.
"Oh, let me go for him," begged Jasper. "I can find him. Surely, you don't
need to, Father; don't, pray, in all this rain."
"I am going after Joel," declared his father, quite obstinately, "so say no
more about it, Jasper"--moving past him to the door. "Come, along, Frick,
my boy, you might as well come, too."
"Let me go, too," cried Jasper. "Oh, Father, can't I? I can at least help."
He didn't say "take care of you," but he really felt anxious to the last
degree.
"Yes, yes," said his father, "of course you may come if you like." So
Jasper, well pleased, rushed for his mackintosh, and all three got into the
carriage, and Thomas whirled them off in his best style.
"It isn't really worth while to worry Mrs. Fisher," said old Mr. King when
well on the way, "for we shall probably soon run across Joel as bright as a
button, and gay as a lark. Bless me, how this rain comes down!"
XIX
JOEL'S NEW FRIEND
But no Joel "bright as a button and gay as a lark" came in sight. Instead,
at a corner they were turning rapidly, Mr. King in desperation giving the
order to drive to one of the boys' houses most likely to attract Joel's
attention this morning, Thomas came to an abrupt halt that nearly threw the
horses back on their haunches.
"What are you about there?" he cried in vexation. "Can't you keep out from
under the horses' heels, I'd like to know?"
The boy thus addressed paid not the slightest attention to the irate
coachman, but advanced to the carriage door. He seemed to have something
the matter with his arm that would evidently have given him a good deal of
bother had his mind been on anything but the desire to attract Mr. King's
attention.
But that gentleman, violently jolted by the sudden pull-up of the horses,
not being in the best frame of mind, called out testily, "Bless me, what is
the man stopping for? Drive on, Thomas," and looked directly over his head.
Seeing which, the boy clambered up the carriage step and hung on with one
hand, but so much determination was in his eyes that old Mr. King fumed
out: "Make the scoundrel get down, Jasper."
"What do you want?" asked Jasper, trying to make it as pleasant as
possible, before the more summary treatment set in.
"I've got to speak to him," said the boy. Thomas, gathering up the reins in
one hand and the whip in the other, looked around with fury in his eye.
"Shall I give him a lick?" he asked.
"No, no," said Jasper hastily, "keep quiet, Thomas."
"I've nothing to say to you," cried Mr. King in his most pompous way, and
with a stately wave of his hand, "so take yourself off, boy."
"Father--" began Jasper, in a distressed tone.
"And be quick about it." The old gentleman fairly roared it out. "Thomas,
drive on."
That functionary, with a very dissatisfied expression that he hadn't been
allowed to use his whip when he got it all ready so nicely, now cracked it
at the horses. The boy, with one hesitating glance at Jasper, slid off the
carriage-step down to the street, and yelled defiantly up into Mr. King's
face as the brougham spun off:
"I was going to tell you where your boy is."
"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, with a white face, "he must know where Joel is.
Thomas, _Thomas, stop!_" For Thomas, having no other way to vent his
vexation, took it out in driving as fast as possible, so he didn't hear
what was going on in the coach.
"Eh?" Mr. King was saying in bewilderment. At last Jasper succeeded in
getting his wishes known, and once more the horses were jerked back, for
the summons was quick and sharp.
By this time the boy was off, and although Jasper peered this way and that,
he could see nothing of the old blue cap that had adorned the head thrust
over the carriage door.
"He knows something about Joel, Father, you may depend," persisted Jasper;
"we must find him."
Frick, who had been ready to cry, all huddled down in his corner, now sat
straight, for it didn't seem to be just the time for tears, and in a minute
he had scrambled past Mr. King, and hopped out.
"I'm going to find him," came back on the air, as he shot off.
"Do you wait here, Father," said Jasper, following him, and leaping out,
"and we'll get the boy."
But the boy, quite willing to tell whatever story there was on his mind
when he jumped on the carriage step, was now of a different mind, and he
ran like a deer, first down one street then another. At last, finding
himself pursued by some one not at all inclined to easily give up the
chase, it suddenly dawned on him that his blue cap might possibly be a
means of tracing his course. So he twitched it off and tucked it under his
well arm. This made it more difficult for Jasper, whose footsteps were fast
gaining on him, to follow him accurately, and for the first time a horrible
moment came to the pursuer when he thought that after all the boy might
escape; but Frick, who had seen Jasper's nimble progress around a corner,
ran down a side street, then across a garden, and came plump into the face
of the boy.
"Here he is," cried Frick, the breath almost knocked out of him by the
encounter. He had grasped whatever he could first lay his fingers on and
held to it firmly. It proved to be the arm for which the boy had not
appeared to have much use.
Once caught, the boy gave a groan, then started to run. Frick being
smaller, it might be an easy matter to shake him off, even with only one
available arm.