Janice bade her new acquaintance good-bye with some difficulty.
The woman by the roadside did love to talk. But when the girl
was well rested she went on.
She remembered very clearly the way she and daddy had come to the
little Johnson cottage in the automobile. So she knew she could
find her way back. One thing she did not take into
consideration, however; that was, that an automobile gets over
the ground a great deal faster than one can walk.
An hour later, past mid-afternoon, dusty and footsore, she was
still marching towards Greensboro along a very pleasant, but a
very wearisome, road. She heard the rumble of wheels behind her,
but she was too tired to turn to look.
Motor car after motor car had passed her while she was trudging
along in the dust, and not one driver stopped to offer her a
lift.
But a friendly voice now hailed her as a horse was drawn down to
a walk. It reached Janice Day's ear like an angelic whisper:
"Don't you want to ride, Miss?"
She wheeled about with almost a scream of joy. "Gummy
Carringford!"
"Jicksy! Is that you, Janice?" gasped the boy. "I'd never know
it, you're so smothered in dust. What are you doing away out
here? Get in--do!"
He offered her a hand and pulled her up to the high step into the
front of the covered wagon. She almost fell to the seat.
"You are the best boy!" she gasped.
"Ain't I? They can't get along without me at my house. What
under the sun are you wandering around for away out here?"
She told him in broken sentences, and he sympathized with her
because of her disappointment.
"I could have told you the Johnsons had gone, if you'd asked me.
But I did not suppose you were interested in them any more," he
said.
"And daddy, being out of the bank, did not know that Mr. Johnson
had withdrawn his account and sailed for Europe. Oh, dear me, it
is so exasperating! Everything about that Olga, and connected
with her, is so mysterious."
"I wonder if I couldn't find out something about her in
Pickletown?" suggested Gummy.
"Daddy has been there often, I believe," she said doubtfully.
"But not of late."
"Why, no, I suppose not. He's been tied to the house with a
'glass leg,'" cried Janice laughing a little.
"You know I deliver orders over there twice a week for Mr.
Harriman. A lot of those people can't even talk English. We've
a Swede for a clerk in the store. They write down what they want
for me, and he puts up the orders.
"But I know a lot of them to talk to--especially the boys that
work in the pickle factories I'll begin by asking them," said
Gummy, with eagerness, for he wanted to help.
"That will be nice of you, Gummy," Janice said. "You never do
know when we might come across some news of her."
"And you say you think she's married?"
"It may be so. To Willie Sangreen. At least, she was going with
a man by that name when she worked for us."
"Don't know any Sangreens over at Pickletown," said Gummy,
shaking his head. "And of course I haven't seen your Olga."
"That is so, Gummy. But if the girl at Johnson's that night was
really Olga Cedarstrom, you'd know her again, wouldn't you?"
"Guess I would if I saw her," declared the boy. "No fear about
that. I'll keep my eyes open, Janice."
With this promise he chirruped to the horse, that jogged along
without paying very much attention to Gummy. He knew the road
better than the boy did, for he had been over it many more times.
"Do you suppose that lawyer that came to see my mother will cheat
us out of our home, Janice?" asked the boy suddenly, showing
where his thoughts were anchored.
"Not if it can be helped, Gummy," returned the girl
sympathetically. "I know daddy's friend, Mr. Payne, will do all
he can for her."
"He hasn't sent any word to her, or anything," sighed Gummy. "We
just don't know what to do."
"All you can do is to sit tight and hold on, I guess," Janice
said. "That is what daddy says he does when things look stormy
for him."
"But, you see, it means so much to us," said the boy, shaking his
head. "Jicksy! And me with such a miserable old name!"
"Why, Gummy!"
"How'd you like to be called Zerubbabelbubble, or something like
that?" he demanded. "Nice enough for you. 'Janice'! That's a
fancy name. But 'Gumswith'! Jicksy!"
"Why, Gummy!" exclaimed the girl again, didn't know you hated it
so."
"I do. I don't talk about it. I know Pa gave it to me because
he thought a heap of his half brother. And Uncle John Gumswith
was a nice man, I guess. He set my father up in business in the
first place, when he was married."
"Oh, is that so, Gummy?'
"Yes! Don't kick about the old name before Momsy. You see, I
guess Uncle John wanted them to name a boy after him; and maybe
they thought if they did so it might do me some good sometime."
"Oh, Gummy! That your uncle would give you money because you
were named after him?"
"Yes," said Gummy, nodding. "I don't know. But--"
"And your uncle's never been heard from? You never saw him,
even?"
"Nor he me," grinned Gummy. "He went off to Australia and never
wrote. He was always traveling around the world, Pa said; and he
never did write. Just walked in on his folks without announcing
he was coming." "A regular wanderer," said Janice.
"And now, jicksy!" exclaimed Gummy, vigorously, "how I'd like to
have him walk in on us now."
"Oh, Gummy" she said eagerly, catching the drift of his desire.
"With his pockets full of money!"
The boy nodded vigorously. "You see, Janice, it would be worth
while being called 'Gumswith' then, sure enough."
Janice could not blame Gummy Carringford feeling as he did. He
really should have something to pay him for being called by such
an atrocious name! And Janice herself would be glad to have rich
relative walk into the Day house and present daddy--with an
automobile, for instance.
They came in sight of the house at Eight Hundred and Forty-five
Knight Street just as the very kind of automobile Janice would
have loved to own was drawing up before the front door--a
handsome, great, big touring car, big enough for her to have
taken most of her friends out riding in at once.
"Oh, who is that?" she cried.
"Man. Don't know him," said Gummy, cheerfully, as the single
occupant of the tonneau stepped out of the car and entered the
gate.
He was a well-dressed man, of more than middle age, and Janice's
heart began to beat faster. It did seem as though something must
be about to happen.
Daddy was on the porch and she could see him greet the gentleman
without rising. The stranger took a seat at Mr. Day's request.
And if Janice had been near enough to have heard the first words
that passed between them, she would have suffered a great drop in
the temperature of her excitement.
"How's the leg, Broxton?" asked the visitor.
"Coming on, Randolph. What's the news?"
"Well, yes, I have news," said the lawyer, nodding.
"I know it. Or you would not have found time to get up into this
part of the town. Well, what can you tell Mrs. Carringford?"
"Nothing much about that Mullen Lane property, I fear, that she
will want to hear."
"Too bad, too bad," said Broxton Day. "I am sorry for her. She
is a hard working woman--and proud. No chance of helping her?"
"I can settle the case for five hundred dollars. I cannot
connect Abel Strout with this shake-down--for that is what it is.
The woman up in Michigan never heard of her great-uncle's
property down here till this little Schrimpe told her. But we
can't connect him with Strout. Strout's skirts are clear. And
this Schrimpe had a perfect legal right to drum up trade. He's
that kind of lawyer," said Mr. Payne, with disgust.
"Five hundred dollars--and she will still owe Abel Strout a
thousand on the mortgage," sighed Mr. Day.
"Yes. But I suppose, in time, the property will be worth it."
"It's worth it now," said Mr. Day. "That is what is the matter
with Strout. But Mrs. Carringford hasn't the money to spare.
And at the present time nobody would put a second mortgage on the
property."
"I suppose the woman up in Michigan gets about twenty-five--maybe
fifty--dollars out of it. That would settle any quitclaim of
this character. Half a dozen other heirs were bought off at the
time; but she was overlooked. The rest of the five hundred Mrs.
Carringford can raise it--will be split between Schrimpe and his
principal."
"There are some mighty mean people in this world," said Broxton
Day, grimly.
"You've said it," agreed the lawyer. "Now, maybe I'd better see
Mrs. Carringford. I understand she is here?"
"Yes."
"Do you know much about her?"
"I know she is a fine woman. They came here from Napsburg after
the husband died--"
"Alexander Carringford, wasn't he?" asked Mr. Payne, taking some
papers from his pocket.
"I believe so."
"They came originally from Cleveland?"
"Maybe."
"A correspondent of mine in Cleveland has written me about a
family of Carringfords, and I shouldn't be surprised if these
were the same people. If they are--"
"What's all the mystery, Payne?" asked Broxton Day, with sudden
interest, for he saw that the lawyer meant more than he had said.
"If this is Alexander Carringford's widow, I don't know but my
news is in two pieces."
"Meaning?"
"Bad news, and good news. Let's call the woman."
At that moment Janice, who had gone into the house through the
back way, appeared at the open door.
"This is my little housekeeper, Randolph," said Broxton Day,
smiling proudly upon his daughter. "Janice, this is Mr. Payne."
The girl came forward without timidity, but without boldness, and
accepted the visitor's hand.
"Is Mrs. Carringford out there?" asked Janice's father.
"Yes, Daddy. And Gummy."
"'Gummy'!" ejaculated the lawyer. "What's that? A game, or
something to eat?"
Janice's dear laughter rang out with daddy's bass tones. "Oh,
no, sir," she said. "Gummy is 'Gumswith Carringford.'"
"My soul!" ejaculated the lawyer, getting up quickly from his
chair, "it is the right family. Come inside. Let's see Mrs.
Carringford somewhere where we can talk without the neighbors
seeing and hearing everything."
For he had noticed the bowed blinds of Miss Peckham's cottage
only a few yards from the end of the porch.
"Tell her to come into the living room, Janice," said Mr. Day,
rising slowly and reaching for his crutches. But it was evident
that he understood the lawyer's excitement no more than Janice
did.
The girl ran back to the kitchen and urged Mrs. Carringford to
come in. "And Gummy, too," she said. "Maybe he wants you. It is
Mr. Payne, and he is daddy's lawyer."
"It's about the home, Gummy!" ejaculated Mrs. Carringford.
"Oh, I hope he'll tell us how to beat out that Abel Strout!"
"Maybe it's to say that Mr. Strout can take our home," faltered
Mrs. Carringford.
"Come on, Momsy!" said her big boy. "I'm not afraid. If worse
comes to worst, it won't be so long before I can support you and
the kids, anyway."
Now Janice thought that was a very nice speech and she remembered
to tell daddy about it afterward.
They went into the living room and Mr. Day introduced Mrs.
Carringford to his companion. The latter looked hard at Gummy.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked rather sternly.
"Carringford, too, sir," said Gummy, politely.
"The whole of it!" commanded the lawyer.
"Er--Gumswith Carringford," said the boy, with flashing eye but
cheeks that would turn red.
"Indeed?" returned the lawyer, staring oddly at Gummy. "You are
something of a boy, I take it." Then he wheeled to confront Mrs.
Carringford.
"I am told," Mr. Payne said, "that your husband was Alexander
Carringford, of Cleveland?"
The woman was somewhat surprised, but said that that statement
was correct. She could not see, during the next few minutes'
cross-examination, what these questions had to do with that
little cottage in Mullen Lane, and whether her family was to be
turned out of it or not.
After even his legal suspicion was satisfied as to Mrs.
Carringford's identity, Mr. Payne said, again looking at Gummy:
"Did you and your husband name this boy after a certain relative
named John Gumswith. Mrs. Carringford?"
"My husband's elder brother. Yes, sir. Gumswith is named after
his Uncle John."
"Humph! I should consider it something of a punishment if I were
the boy," muttered the lawyer. Then he asked:
"Have you heard from this relative--this John
Gumswith--recently?"
"No, sir. Not for fifteen years," said Mrs. Carringford, her
face suddenly paling.
"Do you know where he is?"
"I only know that he started for Australia fifteen years ago."
"Sit down, Mrs. Carringford," said Mr. Day softly. "I assure you
this is nothing to worry about."
I--should--say--not," agreed the lawyer. "Quite the opposite.
And the boy need not look so scared, either. If he can stand
that name he carries around with him--"
"Boy!" exclaimed Mr. Payne, "what would you say if somebody gave
you two thousand pounds?"
"Er--what, sir?" gasped Gummy. "Two thousand pounds of what?
Must be an elephant! That's a ton."
How Mr. Payne did laugh at that! But neither Gummy nor Janice
saw anything funny in his speech. Mrs. Carringford was watching
the lawyer's face, and she said nothing.
"I mean two thousand pounds in money. That is something like ten
thousand dollars. How about it?" asked Mr. Payne again.
"Me?" exploded Gummy.
"Yes. Because your name is 'Gumswith Carringford.' Isn't it
worth it?" chuckled the lawyer.
Gummy looked all around, paling and flushing by turn. Then he
grinned widely and looked at Janice.
"Jicksy!" he murmured, "the old name is worth something, after
all, isn't it?"