Taken in Charge.
AT the prospect of a friendship with the Bannister family, Dick's face
brightened.
"I should like it very much," said he, "if you think your father and
mother won't mind. Some people won't have anything to do with me after
they have known me a little while."
Eileen thought it best to take no notice of this latter statement.
"Father is in America," she said, "and mother—"
"Yes, your mother?" this as Eileen hesitated.
"Mother is—dead," she replied softly and reverently.
The boy looked sympathetic.
"Oh, that's hard luck for you," he said.
"Yes," answered Eileen, blinking away a sudden tear (she hoped Dick had
not seen it); "we miss her ever so much: she was so lovely and so dear.
But somehow we feel," she went on, the sunny expression coming back
into her face, "that she isn't so very far away, and for her sake, we
try to do what is right, so as to please her, you know."
Eileen spoke truly; the gentle influence of the mother who was with God
was like a golden thread in each young life.
Dick was quiet after this for fully a minute; he was more touched
than he cared to show. He seemed to see himself as he was—selfish and
wayward—and then as he would like to be. Unconsciously his young soul
had received an upward lift.
"We've got the dearest dad in the world," said Eileen next. And she
was just about to give Dick further details of the family history,
when they were joined by Teddy and Nora. Shortly after this, the
introductions became general, and Dick so far forgot his shyness as to
become quite sociable.
Mr. Charlton—who, it was plain to see, had a way with young
people—presently suggested that Dick should help in the weeding, which
the lad was only too willing to do.
When Mr. Grimwood returned home shortly before four o'clock to find six
gardeners at work, he was a little taken aback. But the results were
far too satisfactory for him to make any complaint.
Mr. Charlton explained his presence there in pleasant, easy fashion.
And Mr. Grimwood, discovering in him—after a few questions—the son of
an old acquaintance, became quite affable.
Punctually on the stroke of four, the Bannister children received
their earnings, in addition to which, to their delight, Mr. Grimwood
presented them with half a crown.
"Which was only right," declared Teddy, after the good-byes had been
said, "considering he got Mr. Charlton's help for nothing."
And so the first money for the mortgage-box was earned. And, what was
better still, that day a seed had been sown in a self-willed young
heart which was destined to bring forth fruit in the days to come.
It could not be said that Mrs. Weston approved of the day's gardening.
But so pleased were the children with the fruit of their work, that
she could not find it in her heart to scold very much. And something
happened in a day or so which put the incident in the background.
Teddy was taken in charge by a stalwart policeman!
It happened in this way. Teddy had gone on an errand for Mrs. Weston
into the neighbouring town of Chelsford, the others amusing themselves
in the garden; and the August afternoon being very warm, he did not
hurry homeward.
On his return, in rather a lonely part of the road, he met Dick
Woodbridge. Dick's face wore a sullen and clouded look, as though
everything had gone wrong with him. As it chanced, that day he had
received a severe reprimand from his uncle for not speaking the exact
truth.
[Illustration: HE FLUNG THE STONE WITH ALL HIS MIGHT.]
"Hullo, old chap," said Teddy, as they drew near to one another, "where
are you going?"
"Nowhere in particular," answered Dick, his face lightening a bit at
the cheery greeting.
"Then you'd better come along home with me," went on Teddy, "and I'll
show you my rabbits; I've got some beauties."
"I'd like to awfully," replied Dick; "I've got nothing else to do."
So the matter was settled. Five minutes later the lads came to
a turning where four roads met, and standing facing them was a
fire-alarm, the scarlet of its paint glowing fiercely in the sun.
"I wonder," said Dick, a sudden thought striking him, "how near I could
throw a stone at the glass without breaking it."
"Take my advice, and don't attempt it," said sensible Teddy; "you might
smash it, you know."
Dick, heedless of the warning, stooped down and picked up a large-sized
stone from the road.
"Don't be such a silly young donkey!" cried Teddy. "You'll get into
no end of trouble if you 'do' break the glass. Mr. Grimwood—he's the
magistrate here—can be awfully severe when he likes, and there have
been two or three false alarms lately."
At the mention of his uncle's name Dick's lips took an obstinate curve.
"I tell you, I 'will' do it, if only to spite him, and, what's more,
I'll call up the fire-engine."
So saying, he flung the stone with all his might. An instant later
there fell on their ears a sound of broken glass.
Then, true to his word, the headstrong lad went deliberately forward
and set the machinery in motion for calling up the fire-engine.
"You've gone and done it now," said Teddy, looking angry and startled.
"What are you going to say for yourself when you are found out?"
"I don't mean to be found out," answered Dick, now frightened at what
he had done. And, without another word, he turned and ran homewards as
fast as he could.
Teddy gave a whistle of dismay, and, as he had no wish to be mixed up
with the affair, decided that he too would make for home as soon as
possible.
Five minutes had scarcely passed before he heard the sound of a
clanging bell—already the fire-engine (the station being near by) was
speeding on its journey.
The funny side of things struck Teddy at this moment, and he could not
repress a grin. What a story it would be to tell the others!
But Teddy, as it happened, was not destined to get home yet awhile.
On and on he walked, hurrying a little in his eagerness to tell the
tale to his brothers and sisters. Suddenly, however, he heard a loud,
peremptory call from behind him.
"Hi, there, you youngster, stop!"
Teddy turned to see a policeman racing towards him on his bicycle.
In a few minutes the man in blue was by his side. Hurriedly
dismounting, he laid a heavy hand on Teddy's shoulder.
"I've caught you at last, young man," said he, in by no means an
agreeable tone of voice. "Now what have you got to say for yourself?"
"What do you mean?" said Teddy, answering the policeman's question by
another.
"It's all very fine to pretend you don't know," was the reply. "That's
the third time you've called up the fire-engine for nothing. Third time
lucky—at least for me."
"I've had nothing whatever at all to do with it," declared the boy, but
he whitened a little under his tan.
"Don't tell me no lies, now." The constable's tone was fierce; he was
a new-comer to the neighbourhood, and knew little if anything of the
Bannister family. "I want the truth."
"Well, you've got it." Teddy was beginning to feel angry as well as
frightened. "You had better be careful, I think, what you're saying."
There was no look of guilt in Teddy's honest blue eyes, but, as P.C.
Jones said to himself, "You can't always judge by appearances."
"H'm, if 'you' didn't do it," said he, "perhaps you can tell me who
did?"
It was on the tip of Teddy's tongue to say, but he suddenly pulled
himself up. Tale-telling was not a weakness of the Bannister boys and
girls.
"Ho, I've caught you there," said the man, seeing Teddy's hesitation;
"of course you can't tell me, seeing it was yourself! Now you come
along with me; and you'd better mind your p's and q's, or you'll spend
the night in jail."
"Rubbish!" said Teddy defiantly. "They don't put boys my age in prison."
"We shall see what Mr. Grimwood says about that," was the curt reply;
"now, then, come along."
Teddy, feeling very sorry for himself, decided it was no use to do
otherwise than obey.
Together he and P.C. Jones marched along the lonely road, then on
through the village street straight up to The Laurels.