UNEXPECTED ASSISTANCE
When Miss Arabella left the Anchorage she seemed like a different
person from the one who had entered it but a short time before. Her
step was quick and decisive, as if she had something important on hand.
"It was wonderful," Mrs. Britt told her husband, "the way Miss Arabella
went out of that door. She had hardly time to say 'good-bye.' I
wonder what has come over her."
"H'm," the captain grunted contemptuously, "most likely the hawk has
been worryin' that poor little bird in there, and it was that which
made her so happy. I don't know of anything on earth that would please
that skinny creature as much as naggin' at some poor little innocent
thing like Whyn, fer instance. Her long nose is gettin' more hooked
every day."
"Hush, hush, Joshua," his wife remonstrated, "you mustn't say such
things about a woman. Remember, Miss Arabella was greatly concerned
about you this morning. She thought you had gone out of your mind when
she saw you signalling in front of the house."
"She did, eh? Ho, ho! And I suppose she wished that I was crazy
enough to be sent to the 'sylum. That's a good one, and I must go and
tell Whyn."
Miss Arabella had almost reached her house when she met Rod walking
slowly along, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. He was thinking
deeply, and wondering how he was to earn the money to buy his scout
suit. So far he could see no way out of his difficulty. He knew that
if he spoke to Parson Dan and Mrs. Royal they would gladly give him the
money. But he must earn it himself, for that was the scout rule.
"Well, what are you after now?" was Miss Arabella's sharp greeting.
"Grandmother sent me after the basket," Rod explained. "I couldn't get
into the house, and so I thought maybe you were dead."
"Do I look like a dead person?" the woman asked, while a grim smile
lurked about the corners of her mouth.
"No, not now, Miss Arabella. But yesterday you looked as if you might
die at any moment."
"Well, yesterday is not to-day," she snapped. "I'm much better, so if
you'll come back, I'll give you the basket you left here."
When they had reached the house and entered the kitchen, Miss Arabella,
instead of getting the basket, sat down upon a splint-bottom chair, and
began to take off her wraps. Rod stood in the middle of the room and
watched her without saying a word. When the hat and shawl had been
removed and laid carefully upon the table, the woman turned to the boy.
"You told me yesterday," she began, "that you are a scout. Is that so?"
"Yes, Miss Arabella."
"But where is your scout suit?"
"I haven't it yet, and I can't get it until I have the money."
"Well, that's just what I want to speak about. Look here, Rod, you're
not such a bad boy after all, even though you did put a toad in my lap,
and drop that key down my neck. Now, I've made up my mind to help you.
I'm going to give you your suit, see?"
Rod started, while, an expression of joy leaped into his eyes. He was
about to speak, when he suddenly hesitated, and his face grew grave.
"What's the matter?" Miss Arabella demanded, noticing his embarrassed
manner.
"I--I can't take it," he stammered.
"And why not? I'd like to know."
"'Cos I have to earn the money myself, and if you give me the suit it
won't be fair."
"Oh, rubbish! What's the difference?" was the disgusted reply. "The
other scouts will have their suits given to them, and why shouldn't
you? I don't want them to get ahead of you."
"But they've got to earn their own money, Miss Arabella, and they'll
have to tell how they earned it, too. Captain Josh won't let them wear
their suits unless they do."
"H'm, is that so? Well, I call it a queer arrangement. How do you
expect to earn yours?" and the woman looked keenly at the boy.
"I don't know. I've been thinking over it a lot. If I only knew some
way, I would work so hard. Haven't you anything for me to do, Miss
Arabella? I would run errands, carry in wood and water, or do anything
else."
"No, there's nothing like that you could do around here. Tom is
supposed to look after such things, and I don't want to take his jobs
from him. He does little enough as it is, dear knows. He spends so
much of his time at the store that he won't look after the garden. The
strawberries are getting ripe, and I expect they'll rot before he'll
touch them. I never saw such a man. I wish to goodness he had to work
for his living instead, of depending upon what his father left him."
"Let me pick the berries, Miss Arabella," and Rod stepped quickly
forward. "I'll do it for a cent a box, or less if you want me to. I
know a boy who did that and he earned three dollars."
Miss Arabella did not at once reply, and Rod was afraid that she did
not agree to his proposal. She remained silent for a while, plucking
at her dress in a thoughtful manner.
"Rod," she at last began, and her voice was softer than he had ever
heard it, "I am going to give you that patch of berries. It will be
your very own, and you can do what you like with it."
"Oh, Miss Arabella! Surely----"
"There, that will do, now," she snapped. "None of your thanks for me.
You'd better go and get ready to go to work. I saw a good many ripe
berries out there this morning, and you can't afford to waste any time."
Rod didn't walk across the field. There was no slow sauntering home
when he was once out of the house. He burst into the rectory like a
whirlwind, just as the Royals were sitting down to dinner. Breathless
and excited, he blurted out his story, and when he was through Mrs.
Royal told him to get ready for dinner.
Rod could eat but little, as his mind was so taken up with the good
fortune which had come his way. He was anxious to be off to the store
to get some berry-boxes.
"Where are you going to send your berries, Rodney?" Parson Dan inquired
when they were through with their dinner.
"To the city, I suppose," was the reply. "I can't sell them here very
well. Nearly all of the summer people raise their own."
"You should have some one place in the city to send them, Rodney. I
have heard that Peter McDuff gives good prices. You might try him."
"Will you write him a letter, grandad?"
"I think you had better do it yourself. This is your business, and you
must carry it through from beginning to the end."
It took Rod some time to write that letter. It was the first business
one he had ever written, and he did not know just what to say. At
last, after numerous efforts, he decided that this would be
satisfactory:
HILLCREST, N. B.
July 12th, 1911.
"MR. PETER McDUFF,
St. John.
"Dear Sir: I have some strawberries which I am going to pick myself. I
want to buy a scout suit, and Miss Arabella has given me her berries.
What will you give me for them? I will send them down on the boat when
I hear from you.
"Yours very truly,
"ROD ROYAL."
Rod carried this letter to the office, mailed it, and brought back a
number of berry-boxes from the store in his little hand-waggon. The
rest of the afternoon he spent in making a crate to hold the boxes.
Long and patiently he toiled, and at times Mrs. Royal went into the
workshop to see how he was getting along. When supper time came it was
a queer ramshackle affair he had constructed, which would hardly hold
together long enough to reach the wharf, let alone the rough handling
it would receive on the steamer.
That evening after Rod was in bed, Parson Dan took a lamp and went out
to the workshop. His heart was strangely moved as he looked upon the
pathetic efforts of the little lad. Casting aside his coat, he started
to work, and in about half an hour he had fashioned a neat strong
crate, capable of standing the strain of travel. Into this he put the
berry-boxes, placed upon it a good strong cover, and went back into the
house.
Rod was surprised and delighted next morning when he went into the
workshop. He had his misgivings, however, and asked the parson whether
it was right for him to receive any help.
"That's all right, Rodney," the clergyman explained. "You can hardly
be expected to make the berry-boxes any more than you can make the
large crate. There are some things others must do for us. You will
need two or three more crates, so the one I made last night will show
you just how the work is to be done. You did remarkably well yesterday
with nothing to guide you, but to-day I expect you to do better."
Thus encouraged, Rod once more set to work, and by night he had
finished two crates which greatly pleased Mr. and Mrs. Royal. They
were overjoyed at the boy's enthusiasm, his skill and his work, as well
as his willingness to be taught.
The next day a reply was received from Peter McDuff. Rod was greatly
excited as he tore open the envelope.
"MR. ROD ROYAL," so the letter began,
"Dear Sir: Your favor of the 12th received, and its contents noted. I
shall be pleased to receive as many berries as you can send, and will
give you market prices for the same.
"Yours respectfully,
"PETER McDUFF."
This was the first business letter Rod had ever received and he was
delighted. After showing it to Mr. and Mrs. Royal, he rushed over to
tell the good news to Captain Josh and Whyn. The latter was much
pleased, and she gave him some sound advice.
"You must keep that letter," she told him, "for you cannot always trust
people. I have heard some queer stories of mean tricks which have been
done. Then, you had better read the market prices every day in the
paper, and cut the piece out, so you will know just exactly how much
your berries are bringing. How I wish I could help you pick them."
Monday morning Rod began to pick his first berries. The patch was not
a large one, but it seemed big to him. Hour after hour he worked, and
at times his back ached. The day was hot, and the perspiration poured
down his face. But he kept faithfully at his task, stopping only long
enough to eat his dinner. When supper time came he had twenty boxes of
nice ripe berries lying side by side upon the kitchen table. He could
not eat a bite until all had been placed safely in the crate, and then
he stood back and gazed upon them with admiration. In fact, he had to
come out several times before he went to bed to view his treasures.
But at last the cover was placed on, nailed down, and the ticket tacked
upon the top.
Early the next morning Parson Dan and Rod took the berries to the wharf
in the carriage, in time to catch the first steamer of the day. Thus
at last his precious berries were off on their way to the city, and as
Rod watched the _Heather Bell_ as she glided away from the wharf he
tried to catch a glimpse of his box where it was lying among the rest
of the freight. He pictured Mr. McDuff's delight when he saw what fine
berries he had received.
That day Rod picked twenty more boxes, fifteen in the morning, and five
during the afternoon. They were becoming scarcer now, and it would be
necessary for him to let them ripen for a day before he could expect to
fill a third crate. The rest of the afternoon he spent with the
scouts. It was their regular meeting, at which they were to tell how
they were getting along with the raising of money for their suits. The
reports were by no means encouraging from most of the boys, as they had
accomplished nothing. Rod alone told what he had done, and how much he
hoped to make out of his berries.
"I am going to earn every cent myself," he said in conclusion, "and I
am not going to get my suit until I can pay for it."
"Good fer you!" the captain exclaimed. "That's the kind of talk I like
to hear. And look here, you fellows," he continued, turning to the
rest of the scouts, "if ye want to remain in this troop ye've got to
git a hustle on. I've got letters in my pocket from several boys who
want to join. Some are willin' to walk quite a distance, and if ye
don't want to obey orders, out ye go. A troop can't be run right, any
more than a ship, unless orders are obeyed. I'll let yez off this
time, but, remember, a week from to-day ye'll report again, and then
I'll give my decision. That'll do now, so let's go fer a sail."
Every day Rod studied the price of berries in the newspaper, and cut
out the list. He also kept his account in his little note-book. At
the end of the first week he had made the following entries:
"July 17th--20 boxes at 7 cents . . . . $1.40
July 18th--20 boxes at 8 cents . . . . 1.60
July 20th--15 boxes at 7 cents . . . . 1.05
July 21st--10 boxes at 9 cents . . . . .90
-----
"$4.95"
The next week he sent off several more boxes which amounted to three
dollars according to his reckoning. He knew that the freight would
have to come out of this, which he believed would not be over one
dollar at the most. Thus he would have about seven dollars to spend
upon his suit, billy-can, axe, haversack, knife, and several other
things he saw in the scout list which had been sent from the store in
the city where the supplies were kept.
Rod showed his account to Captain Josh, and the latter believed that
the figures were about right, as he had each day found out from the
farmers what they had received for their berries. He was somewhat
surprised that Peter McDuff had sent no regular statements to Rod. He,
accordingly, made careful inquiries from several people who knew
McDuff, and what he learned gave him considerable uneasiness.