Establishing Protectorates
"I'm sorry no end!" said Mickey. "First time I ever been late. I was helping Peter; we were so busy that the first thing I knew I heard the hum of her gliding past the clover field, so I was left. I know how hard you're working. It won't happen again."
Mickey studied his friend closely. He decided the time had come to watch. Douglas Bruce was pale and restless, he spent long periods in frowning thought. He aroused from one of these and asked: "What were you and Peter doing that was so very absorbing?"
"Well about the most interesting thing that ever happened," said Mickey. "You see Peter is one of the grandest men who ever lived; he's so fine and doing so manybigthings, in a way he kind of fell behind in thelittleones."
"I've heard of men doing that before," commented Douglas. "Can't you tell me a new one?"
"Sure!" said Mickey. "You know the place and how good it seems on the outside—well it didn't look so good inside, in the part that counted most. You've noticed the big barns, sheds and outbuildings, all the modern conveniences for a man, from an electric lantern to a stump puller; everything I'm telling you—and for the nice lady, nix! Her work table faced a wall covered with brown oilcloth, and frying pans heavy enough to sprain Willard, a wood fire to boil clothes and bake bread, in this hot weather, the room so low and dark, no ice box, with acres of ice close every winter, no water inside, no furnace, and carrying washtubs to the kitchen for bathing as well as washing, aw gee—you get the picture?"
"I certainly do," agreed Douglas, "and yet she was a neat, nice-looking little woman."
"Sure!" said Mickey. "If she had to set up housekeeping in Sunrise Alley in one day you could tell her place from anybody else's. Sure, she's a nice lady! But she has troubles of her own. I guess everybody has."
"Yes, I think they have," assented Douglas. "I could muster a few right now, myself."
"Yes?" cried Mickey. "That's bad! Let's drop this and cut them out."
"Presently," said Douglas. "My head is so tired it will do me good to think about something else a few minutes. You were saying Mrs. Harding had trouble; what is it?"
Mickey returned to his subject with a chuckle.
"She was 'bout ready to tackle them nervous prostrations so popular with the Swell Dames," he explained, "because every morning for fifteen years she'd faced the brown oilcloth and pots and pans, while she'd been wild to watch sunup from under a particular old apple tree; when she might have seen it every morning if Peter had been on his job enough to saw a window in the right place. Get that?"
"Yes, I get it," conceded Douglas. "Go on!"
"Well I began her work so she started right away, and before she got back in comes Peter. When he asks where she was and why she went, I was afraid, but for her sake I told him. I told him everything I had noticed. At first he didn't like it."
"It's a wonder he didn't break your neck."
"Well," said Mickey judicially, "as I size Peter up he'd fight an awful fight if he was fighting, but he ain't much onstartinga fight. I worked the separator steady, and by and by when I 'summed up the argument,' as a friend of mine says, I guess that cream separator didn't look any bigger to Peter, set beside a full house and two or three sheds for the stuff he'd brought to makehiswork easier, than it did to me."
"I'll wager it didn't," laughed Douglas.
"No it didn't!" cried Mickey earnestly. "And when he stood over it awhile, that big iron stove made his kitchen, where his wife lived most of her day, seem 'bout as hot as my room where he was raving over Lily having been; and when he faced the brown oilcloth and the old iron skillets for a few minutes of silent thought, he bolted at about two. Peter ain't so slow!"
"What did he do?" asked Douglas.
"Why we planned to send her on a visit," said Mickey, "and cut that window, and move in the pump, and invest in one of those country gas plants, run on a big tank of gasoline away outside where it's all safe, and a bread-mixer, and a dishwasher, and some lighter cooking things; but we got interned."
"How Mickey?" interestedly inquired Douglas.
"Remember I told you about Junior coming in to hunt work because he was tired of the country, and how it turned out?" said Mickey.
"Yes I recall perfectly," answered Douglas.
"There's a good one on me about that I haven't told you yet, but I will," said Mickey. "Well when son came home, wrapped in a comfort, there was a ripping up on the part of Peter. He just 'hurled back the enemy,' and who do you think he hit the hardest?"
"I haven't an idea," said Douglas.
"In your shoes, I wouldn't a-had one either," said Mickey. "Well, he didn't go for Junior, or his Ma, or me. Peter stood Mister Peter Harding out before us, and then didn't leave him a leg to stand on. He proved conclusive he'd used every spare moment he'd had since Junior was in short clothes, carrying him to Multiopolis to amuse him, and feed him treats, and show him shows; so he was to blame if Junior developed a big consuming appetite for such things. How does the argument strike you?"
"Sound!" cried Douglas. "Perfectly sound! It's precisely what the land owners are doing every day of their lives, and then wailing because the cities take their children. I've had that studied out for a year past."
"Well Peter figured it right there for us in detail," said Mickey. "Then he tackled Ma Harding and her sunup, and then he thought out a way to furnish entertainment and all the modern comforts right there at home."
"What entertainment?" said Douglas.
"Well he specified saddles and horses to ride," grinned Mickey, "and swimming, and a fishing-boat and tackle for all of us, a launch on whatever lake we like best, a big entertainment house with a floor for skating and dancing, and a stage for plays we will get up ourselves, and a movie machine. I'm to find out how to run one and teach them, and then he'll rent reels and open it twice a week. The big hole that will cave in on the north side of Multiopolis soon now will be caused by the slump when our neighbourhood withdraws its patronage and begins being entertained by Peter. And you'll see that it will work, too!"
"Of course it will," agreed Douglas. "Once the country folk get the idea it will go like a landslide. So that's what made you late?"
"Well connected with that," explained Mickey. "Peter didn't do a thing but figure up the price he'd paid for every labour-saver he ever bought for himself, and he came out a little over six thousand. He said he wouldn't have wanted Ma in a hardware store selecting his implements, so he guessed he wouldn't choose hers. He just drew a check for what he said was her due, with interest, and put it in her name in the bank, and told her to cut loose and spend it exactly as she pleased."
"What did she do?" marvelled Douglas.
"Well she was tickled silly, but she didn't lose her head; she began investigating what had been put on the market to meet her requirements. At present we are living on the threshing floor mostly, and the whole house is packed up; when it is unpacked, there'll be a bathroom on the second floor, and a lavatory on the first. There'll be a furnace in one room of the basement, and a coal bin big enough for a winter's supply. We can hitch on to the trolley line for electric lights all over the house, and barn, and outbuildings, and fireless cooker, iron, and vacuum cleaner, and a whole bunch of conveniences for Ma, including a washing machine, and stationary tubs in the basement. Gee! Get the picture?"
"I surely do! What else Mickey?" asked Douglas. "You know I've a house to furnish soon myself."
"Well a new kitchen on the other end of the building where there's a breeze, and a big clover field, and a wood, and her work table right where it is in line with her private and particular sunup. There's a big sink with hot and cold water, and a dishwasher. There's a bread-mixer and a little glass churn, both of which can be hitched to the electricity to run. There's a big register from the furnace close the work table for winter, and a gas cook stove that has more works than a watch."
"What does the lady say about it?"
"Mighty little!" said Mickey. "She just stands and wipes the shiny places with her apron or handkerchief, and laughs and cries, 'causeshe's so glad. It ain't set up yet, but you can see just standing before it what it's going to mean for her. And there's a chute from the upstairs to the basement, to scoot the wash down to the electric machine to rub them, and a little gas stove with two burners to boil them, and the iron I told you of. Hanging it up is the hardest part of the wash these days, and since they have three big rooms in the basement, Peter thought this morning that he could put all the food in one, and stretch her lines in the winter for the clothes to dry in the washroom. The furnace will heat it, and it's light and clean; we are going to paint it when everything is in place."
"Is that all?" queried Douglas.
"It's a running start," said Mickey; "I don't know as Peter will ever get to 'all'. The kitchen is going to have white woodwork, and blue walls and blue linoleum, and new blue-and-white enamelled cooking things from start to finish, with no iron in the bunch except two skillets saved for frying. Even the dishpan is going to be blue, and she's crying and laughing same time while she hems blue-and-white wash curtains for the windows. All the house is going to have hardwood floors, the rooms cut more convenient; out goes the old hall into just a small place to take off your wraps, and the remainder added to the parlour. All the carpets and the old heavy curtains are being ground up and woven into rugs. Gee, it's an insurrection! Ma Harding and I surely started things when we planned to dose Junior on Multiopolis, and let her 'view the landscape o'er.' You can tell by her face she's seeing it! If she sails into the port o' glory looking more glorified, it'll be a wonder! And Peter! You ought to see Peter! And Junior! You should see Junior planning his room. And Mickey! You must see Mickey planning his! And Mary and Bobbie! And above all, you should see Lily! Last I saw of her, Peter was holding her under her arms, and she was shoving her feet before her trying to lift them up a little. We've most rubbed them off her with fine sand, and then stuck them in cold water, and then sanded them again, and they're not the same feet—that's a cinch!"
"Is that the sum of the Harding improvements?" asked Douglas, drawing fine lines on a sheet of figures before him.
"Well it's a fair showing," said Mickey. "We ain't got the new rugs, and the music box, and the books; or the old furniture rubbed and oiled yet. When the house is finished, Peter expressly specified that his lady was to get her clothes so she could go to the club house, and not be picked for a country woman by what shewore."
"Mickey, this is so interesting it has given my head quite a rest. Maybe now I can see my way clearly. But one thing more: how long are you planning to stay there? You talk as if——"
"'Stay there?'" said Mickey. "Didn't you hear me say there was a horse and saddle and a room for me, and a room for Lily? 'Stay there!' Why for ever and ever more! That'shome!When I got into trouble and called on Peter to throw a lifeline, he did it up browner than his job for Ma. Alinewas all I asked;but Peter established a regular Pertectorate—nobody can 'get' us now——"
"You mean Peter adopted both of you?" cried Douglas.
"Sure!" indorsed Mickey with a flourish. "You see it was like this: when we dosed Junior with Multiopolis, the old threshing machine took a hand and did some things to him that wasn't on the program; he found out about it, and it made him mad. When he got his dander up he hit back by turning old Miss Country loose on me. First I tried a ram and yellow jackets; then only a little bunch of maple twigs was all the pull I had to keep me from going to the bottomless pit by the way of the nastiest quicksand on Atwater Lake. Us fellows went back one day and fed it logs bigger than I am, and it sucked them down like Peter does a plate of noodles. Then Junior thought curling a big dead rattler in the path, and shunting me so I'd step right on it, would be a prime joke; but he didn't figure on the snake he had fixed for me having a mate as big and ugly as it was, that would follow and coil zipping mad over the warm twisting body——"
"Mickey!" gasped Douglas.
"Just so! Exactly what I thought—and then some. When I dragged what was left of me home that night, and figured out where I'd been if the big maple hadn't spread its branch just as wide as it did, or if the snake had hit my leg 'stead of my britches—when I took my bearings and saw where I was at, the thing that really hurt me worst was that if I'd gone, either down or up, I hadn't done anything for Lily but give her a worse horror than she had, of being 'got' by them Orphings' Home people, when I should have made hersafe forever. I took Peter to the barn and told him just how it was, 'cause I felt mighty queer. I wasn't so sure that one scratch on my leg that looked ugly mightn't a-been the snake striking through the cloth and dosing me some, I was so sick and swelled up; it turned out to be yellow jackets, but it might a-been snakes, and I was a little upset. As man to man I asked him what I ought to do for myfamily'fore I took any morerisks. A-body would have thought the jolt the box gave me would have been enough, but it wasn't! It took the snake and the quicksand to just right real wake me up. First I was some sore on Junior; but pretty quick I saw how funny it was, so I got over it——"
"He should have had his neck broken!"
"Wope! Wope! Back up!" cautioned Mickey. "Nothing of the kind! You ain't figuring on the starving, the beating, being knocked senseless, robbed of all his clothestwice, and landing in the morgue with the cleaning-house victims. Gee, Junior had reasons for his grouch!"
Douglas Bruce suddenly began to laugh wildly.
"Umhum! That's what I told you," said Mickey. "Well, that night I laid the case before Peter, out on the hay wagon in the barnyard, so moon white you could have read theHerald, the cattle grunting satisfied all around us, katydids insisting on it emphatic, crickets chirping, and the old rooster calling off the night watches same as he did for that first Peter, who denied his Lord. I thought about that, as I sat and watched the big fellow slowly whittling the rack, and once in a while putting in a question, and when I'd told him all there was to tell, he said this: he saidsureLily wasmine, and I had a perfectrighttokeepher; but the lawmightbutt in, 'cause therewasa law we couldn't evade thatcouldstep in and take her any day. He said too, that if she had to go to the hospital, sudden, first question a surgeon would ask was who were her parents, and if she had none, who in their place could give him a right to operate. He said while she wasmine, and it was myright, andmy job, the law and the surgeon would sayno, 'cause we were not related, and I was not of age. He said there were times when the law got its paddle in, and went to fooling with red tape, it let a sick person lay and die while it decided what to do. He said he'd known a few just exactly such cases; so to keep the law from making a fool of itself, as it often did, we'd better step in and fix things to suit us before it ever got a showdown."
"What did he do?" asked Douglas Bruce eagerly.
"Well, after we'd talked it over we moved up to the back porch and Peter explained to Ma, who is the boss of that family, only she doesn'tknowit, and she said for him to do exactly what his conscience and his God dictated. That's where his namesake put it over that first Peter. Our Peter said: 'Well if God is to dictate my course, you remember what He said about "suffering the little children to come to Him," and we are commanded to be like Him, so there's no way totwistit, but that it meanssuffer them to come to us,' he said.
"Ma she spoke quick and said: 'Well we've got them!'
"Peter said, 'Yes, we've got them; now the question is whether wekeepthem, or send them to an Orphings' Home.'
"The nice lady she said faster than I can tell you: 'Peter Harding, I'm ashamed of you! There's no question of that kind! There's never going to be!'
"'Well don't get het up about it,' said Peter. 'I knew all the time therewasn't, I justwanted to hear you say so plain and emphatic. So far as I'm concerned, my way is clear as noonday sun,' said Peter. 'Then you go first thing in the morning and adopt them, and adopt themboth,' said Ma. 'Lily will make Mary just as good a sister as she could ever have,' said she, and then she reached over and put her arms right around me and she said, 'And if you think I'm going to keep on trying to run this house without Mickey, you're mistaken.' I began to cry, 'cause I had had a big day, and I was shaking on my feet anyway. Then Peter said, 'Have you figured it out to the end? Is it to be 'til they are of age, or forever?' She just gripped tighter and said fast as words can come, 'I say make it forever, and share and share alike. I'm willing if you are.' Peter, he said, 'I'm willing. They'll pay their way any place. Forever, and share and share alike, is my idea. Do you agree, Mickey?' 'Exactly what do you mean?' I asked, and Peter told me it was making me and Lily both his, just as far as the law could do it; we could go all the farther we wanted to ourselves. He said it meant him getting the same for me and Lily as he did for his own, and leaving us the same when he died. I told him heneedn't do that, if he'd just keep off the old Orphings' Home devil, that's had me scared stiff all my days, I'd tend tothat, so now me and Lily belong to Peter; he's ourPertectorate."
"Mickey, why didn't you tell me?" asked Douglas. "Why didn't you want me to adopt you?"
"Well so far as 'adopting' is concerned," said Mickey, "I ain'tcrazyabout it, with anybody. But that's thelawyou men have made; a boy must obey it, even if he'd rather be skinned alive, and when heknowsit ain'tright or fair. That's the law. I was up against it, and I didn't know but Ididhave the snake, and Peter was on hand and made that offer, and he was grand and big about it. I don't love him any more than I do you; but I've just this minute discovered that it ain't in my skin to love any man more than I do Peter; so you'll have to get used to the fact that I love him just as well, and say, Mr. Bruce, Peter is the finest man you ever knew. If you'll come out and get acquainted, you'll just be tickled to have him in the Golf Club, and to come to his house, and to have him at yours. His nice lady is exactly like Miss Winton, only older. Say, she and Peter will adopt you too, if you say so, and between us, just as man to man, Peter is a regular lifesaver! If you got a chance you better catch on! No telling what you might want of him!"
"Mickey, you do say the most poignant things!" cried Douglas. "I'd give all I'm worth to catch on to Peter right now, and cling for muchmorethan life; but what I started, I must finish, and Peter isn't here."
"Well what's the matter with me?" asked Mickey. "Have you run into the yellow jackets too? 'Cause if you have, I'm ahead of you, so I know what to do. Just catch on to me!"
"Think you are big enough to serve as a straw for a drowning man,Mickey?" inquired Douglas.
"Sure! I'm big enough to establish aPertectorateover you, this minute. The weight of my body hasn't anything to do with the size of my heart, or how fast I can work my brains and feet, if I must."
"Mickey," said Douglas despairingly, "it's my candid opinion that no one can save me, right now."
Mickey opened his lips, and showed that his brainwasworking by shutting them abruptly on something that seemed very much as if it had started to be: "Sure!"
"Is that so?" he substituted.
"Yes, I'm in the sweat box," admitted Douglas.
"And it's uncomfortable and weakening. What's the first thing we must do to get you out?"
"What I'm facing now is the prospect that there's no way for me to get out, or for my friends to get me out," admitted Douglas. "I wish Ihadbeen plowing corn."
The boy's eyes were gleaming. He was stepping from one foot to the other as if the floor burned him.
"Gosh, we must saw wood!" he cried. "You go on and tell me. I been up against a lot of things. Maybe I can think up something. Honest, maybe I can!"
"No Mickey, there's nothing you or any one can do. A miracle is required now, and miracles have ceased."
"Oh I don't know!" exclaimed Mickey. "Look how they been happening to me and Lily right along. I can't see why one mightn't be performed for you just as well. I wish you wouldn't waste so much time! I wish you hadn't spent an hour fooling with what I was telling you;thatwould keep. I wish you'd give me a job, and let me get busy."
Douglas Bruce smiled forlornly.
"I'd gladly give you the job of saving me, my dear friend," he said, "but the fact is I haven't a notion of how to go to work to achieve salvation."
"Is somebody else getting ahead of you?"
"Not that I know of! No I don't think so. That isn't the trouble," saidDouglas.
"I do wish you'd just plain tell me," said Mickey. "Now that I got thePertectorateall safe over Lily, I'd do anything for you. Maybe I could think up some scheme. I'm an awful schemer! I wish you'dtrustme! You needn't think I'dblab!Come on now!"
Suddenly Douglas Bruce's long arms stretched across the table before him, his head fell on them, and shuddering sobs shook him. Mickey's dance steps became six inches high, while in desperation he began polishing the table with his cap. Then he reached a wiry hand and commenced rubbing Douglas up and down the spine. The tears were rolling down his cheeks, but his voice was even and clear.
"Aw come on now!" he begged. "Cut that out! That won't help none! What shall Ido?Shall I call Mr. Minturn? Shall I get Miss Leslie on the wire?"
Bruce arose and began walking the floor.
"Yes," he said. "Yes! 'Bearer of Morning,' call her!"
Mickey ran to the telephone. In a minute, "Here she is," he announced."Shall I go?"
"No! Stay right where you are."
"Hello Leslie! Are you all right? I'm sorry to say I am not. I'm up against a proposition I don't know how to handle. Why just this: remember your father told me in your presence that if in the course of my investigations I reached his office, I was to wait until he got back? Yes. I thought you'd remember. You know the order of the court gave me access to the records, but the officials whose books I have gone over haven't been pleased about it, although reflection would have told them if it hadn't been I, it would have been some other man. But the point is this: I'm almost at the finish and I haven't found what obviously exists somewhere. I'm now up to the last office, which is your father's. The shortage either has to be there, or in other departments outside those I was delegated to search; so that further pursuit will be necessary. Two or three times officials have suggested to me that I go over your father's records first, as an evidence that there was no favouritism; now I have reached them, and this proposition: if I go ahead in his, as I have in other offices, I disobey his express order. If I do not, the gang will set up a howl in to-morrow morning's paper, and they will start an investigation of their own. Did you get anything from him this morning Leslie? Not for four days? And he's a week past the time he thought he would be back? I see! Leslie, what shall I do? In my morning's mail there is a letter from the men whose records I have been over, giving me this ultimatum: 'begin on Winton's office immediately, or we will.'
"Tell them to go ahead? But Leslie! Yes I know, but Leslie——Yes! You are ordering me to tell them that I propose to conduct the search in his department as I did theirs, and if they will not await his return from this business trip, they are perfectly free to go ahead——You aresurethat is the thing you want said? But Leslie——Yes, I know, but Leslie it isdisobeyinghim, and it's barely possible there might be a traitor there; better men than he have been betrayed by their employees. I admit I'm all in. I wish you would come and bring your last letter from him. We'll see if we can't locate him by wire. It's an ugly situation. Of course I didn't think it would come to this. Yes I wish you would! If you say so, I will, but——All right then. Come at once! Good-bye!"
Douglas turned to his desk, wrote a few hasty lines and said to Mickey:"Deliver that to Muller at the City Hall."
Mickey took the envelope and went racing. In half the time he would have used in going to the City Hall he was in theHeraldBuilding, making straight for the office of the editor. Mr. Chaffner was standing with a group of men earnestly discussing some matter, when his eye was attracted by Mickey, directly in range, and with the tip of his index finger he was cutting in air letters plainly to be followed: "S.O.S." Chaffner nodded slightly, and continued his talk. A second later he excused himself, and Mickey followed to the private room.
"Well?" he shot at the boy.
"Our subm'rine has sunk our own cotton."
"Humph!" said Chaffner. "I've known for two weeks it was heading your way. Just what happened?"
Mickey explained and produced the letter. Chaffner reached for it.Mickey drew back.
"Why I wouldn't dare do just that," he said. "But I know that's what's in it, because I heard what he said, and by it you could tell what she said. I've told you every word, and you said the other day you knew; please tell me if I should deliver this letter?"
"If you want to give me a special with the biggest scoop of ten years," said Chaffner, "and ruin Douglas Bruce and disgrace the Wintons, take it right along."
"Aw gee!" wailed Mickey, growing ghastly. "Aw gee, Mr. Chaffner! Why youcan'tdo that! Not tothem!Why they're thenicest folks;and 'tain't two weeks ago I heard Miss Leslie say to Mr. Bruce right in our office, 'losing money I could stand, disgrace wouldkillme.' You can't kill her, Mr. Chaffner! Why she's the nicest, and the prettiest——She found me, and sent me to the boss, like I told you. Honest she did! Why you can't! You justcan't!Why Mr. Chaffner, I can see by your nice eyes you can't! Aw gee, come on now!"
Mickey's chin hooked over the editor's elbow, his small head was against his arm, his eyes were dripping tears, but his voice controlled and steady was entreating.
"You know there's a screw loose somewhere," explained Mickey. "You know 'darling old Daddy' couldn't ever have done it; and if somebody under him has gone wrong, maybe he could make it up, if he was here and had an hour or so. That day, Miss Leslie said he should give all he had for his friend, and he could have all of hers. If she'd be willing for the money to go for her 'dear old Daddy's'friend, course she'd be glad to use it for her Daddy, and she's got a lot from her mother, and maybe Daddy has sold the land he went to sell, and all of that ought to be enough; and if it isn't, I know who will help them. Honest I do!"
"Who, Mickey?" demanded Mr. Chaffner, instantly.
"Mr. Minturn! Mr. James Minturn!" said Mickey. "He's Mr. Bruce's best friend, and hetoldme he would doanythingfor Miss Leslie, that day right after I saw you, for if his home ever came right again, it would be 'cause she made it; and shedidmake it, and it isright, and he's so crazy happy he can't hardly keep on the floor.Coursehe'd pay Miss Leslie back. Hesaidhe would. He's the nicest man!"
"Isn't your world rather full of nice men, Mickey?"
Mickey renewed his grip. His eyes were pleading, the white light on his brow was shining, his voice was irresistibly sweet: "You just bet my world is full of nice men, packed like sardines; but they'll all scrooge up a little and make room for you on the top layer among the selects! Come on now! Rustle for your place before we revolve and leave you. All your life you'll be sorry if you make that scoop, and kill Miss Leslie, and shame 'darling old Daddy,' and ruin my boss. Oh I say Mr. Chaffner, youcan't!You can't ever sleep nights again, if you do! They haven't ever done anything to you. You'll be thenicestman of all, if you'lltell me what to do. 'Twon't take you but a second, 'cause youknow. Oh tell me, for the love of God tell me, Mr. Chaffner!You'll be the nicest man I know, if you'll tell me."
The editor looked down in Mickey's compelling eyes. He laid his hand on the lad's brow and said: "That would be worth the price of any scoop I ever pulled off, Mickey. Are you going to be a lawyer or write that poetry for me?"
"If I'd ever even thought of law,thiswould cook me," said Mickey. "Poetry it is, as soon as I earn enough to pay for finding out how to do it right."
"And when you find out, will you come on my staff, and work directly under me?" asked Mr. Chaffner.
"Sure!" promised Mickey. "I'd rather do it than anything else in the world. It would suit me fine. That is, if you're coming in among my nice men——"
Mr. Chaffner held out his hand. "This is going to cost me something in prestige and in cash," he said, "but Mickey, you make itworthwhile. Here are your instructions:don'tdeliver that letter! Cut for Minturn and give it to him. Tell him if he wants me, to call any time inside an hour, and that he hasn't longer than noon to make good. He'll understand. If you can't beat a taxi on foot, take one. Have you money?"
"Yes," said Mickey, "but just suppose he isn't there and I can't find him?"
"Then find his wife, and tell her to call me."
"All right! Thanks, boss! You're simply great!"
Mickey took the taxi and convinced the driver he was in a hurry. He danced in the elevator, ran down the hall, and into Mr. Minturn's door. There he stopped abruptly, for he faced Miss Winton and Mrs. Minturn, whose paling face told Mickey that he was stamped on her memory as she was on his. He pulled off his cap, and spoke to Mr. Minturn.
"Could I see you a minute?" he asked.
"Certainly! Step this way. Excuse us ladies."
Mickey showed the letter, told what had caused it to be written, and that he had gone to Mr. Chaffner instead of delivering it, and what instructions had been given him there. Mr. Minturn picked up the telephone and called Mr. Chaffner. When he got him he merely said: "This is Minturn. What's the amount, and where does he bank his funds? Thank you very much indeed."
Then he looked at Mickey. "Till noon did you say?"
"Yes," cried Mickey breathlessly, "and 'tisn't so long!"
"No," said Mr. Minturn, "it isn't. Ask Mrs. Minturn if I may speak with her a moment."
"Shall I come back or stay there?" inquired Mickey.
"Come back," said Mr. Minturn. "I may need you."
Mickey stood before Mrs. Minturn.
"Please will you speak with Mr. Minturn a minute?"
"Excuse me Leslie," said the lady, rising, and entering the private room. There she turned to Mickey. "I remember you very well," she said, with a steady voice. "You needn't shrink from me. I've done all in my power to atone. It will never be possible for me to think of forgiving myself; but you'll forgive me, won't you?"
"Sure! Why lady, I'm awful sorry for you."
"I'm sorry for myself," said she. "What was it you wanted, Mr. Minturn?"
"Suppose you tell Mrs. Minturn about both your visits here," suggestedMr. Minturn to Mickey.
"Sure!" said Mickey. "You see it was like this lady. This morning Mr.Bruce's head is down, and if he doesn't get help before noon, he andMiss Leslie and all those nice people are in trouble. I thought Mr.Minturn ought to know, so I slipped in and told him."
"What is the trouble, lad?" asked Mrs. Minturn.
"Why you see Miss Leslie's 'darling old Daddy' is one of the city officials, and of course Mr. Bruce left him 'til last, because he would a-staked his life he'd find the man he was hunting before he got to his office, and hedidn't!"
"What, James?" said the lady, turning hurriedly.
"Tell her about it, Mickey," said Mr. Minturn calmly.
"Well there ain't much to tell," said Mickey. "My boss he just kept stacking up figures; two or three times he thought he had his man and then he'd strike a balance; and the men whose records he searched kept getting madder, and Mr. Winton went west to sell some land. Someway he's been gone a week longer than he expected; and my boss is all through except him, and now the other men say if he doesn't begin on Mr. Winton's books right away,theywill, and he told my bossnot to 'til he got back. A while ago I was in theHeraldoffice talking to Mr. Chaffner, whose papers I've sold since I started and I was telling him what nice friends I had, and how Mr. Bruce and Miss Leslie were engaged, and he like to ate me up. When I couldn't see why, he told me about investigations he had his men, like I'm going to be, make, and sometimes they get a 'scoop' on the men appointed to do the job, and he told me he had a 'scoop' on this, and if I saw trouble coming toward my boss, I was to tell him and maybe—he didn't say sure, butmaybehe'd do something."
"Oh James!" cried Mrs. Minturn.
"Wait dear! Go on Mickey," said Mr. Minturn.
"Well," said Mickey, "the elevated jumped the track this morning when my boss got a letter saying if he didn't go on at once with Mr. Winton's office, somebody else would; and the people who have been in the air ever since are due to land at noon, and it's pretty quick now, and they are too nice for any use. Did you ever know finer people?"
"No I never did," said Mrs. Minturn; "but James, I don't understand.Tell me quickly and plainly."
"Chaffner just gave me the figures," he said, holding over a slip of paper. "If that amount is to Mr. Winton's credit on his account with the city, at the Universal Bank before noon—nothing at all. If it'snot, disgrace for them, and I started it by putting Bruce on the case. I'll raise as much as I can, but I can't secure enough by that time without men knowing it. Mr. Winton has undoubtedly gone to try to secure what he needs; but he's going to be too late. There never has been a worse time to raise money in the history of this country."
"But ifmoneyis the trouble," said Mrs. Minturn, "you said you never would touch what I put in your name for yourself, why not use it for him? If that isn't enough, I will gladly furnish the remainder. That I'm not a stranded, forsaken woman is due to Leslie Winton; all I have wouldn't be big enough price to pay for you, and my boys, and my precious home. Be quick James!"
Mr. Minturn was calling the Universal Bank.
Mickey and Mrs. Minturn waited anxiously. They involuntarily drew together, and the woman held the boy in a close grip, while her face alternately paled and flushed, and both of them were breathing short.
"I want the cashier!" Mr. Minturn was saying.
"Don't his voice just make you feel like you were on the rock of ages?" whispered Mickey.
Mrs. Minturn smiling nodded.
"Hello, Mr. Freeland. This is Minturn talking—James Minturn. You will remember some securities I deposited with you not long ago? I wish to use a part of them to pay a debt I owe Mr. Winton. Kindly credit his account with—oh, he's there in the bank? Well never mind then. I didn't know he was back yet. Let it go! I'll see him in person. And you might tell him that his daughter is at my office. Yes, thank you. No you needn't say anything about that to him; we'll arrange it ourselves. Good-bye!"
"Now where am I at?" demanded Mickey.
"I don't think you know, Mickey," said Mr. Minturn, "and I am sure I don't, but I have a strong suspicion that Mr. Winton will be here in a few minutes, and if his mission has been successful, his face will tell it; and if he's in trouble, that will show; and then we will know what to do. Mr. Bruce would like to know he is here, and at the bank I think."
"I'll go tell him right away," said Mickey.
Douglas was walking the floor as Mickey entered.
"You delivered the letter?" he cried.
Mickey shook his head, producing the envelope.
"You didn't!" shouted Bruce. "You didn't! Thank God! Oh, thank God youdidn't!"
"Aw-w-ah!" protested Mickey.
"Why didn't you?" demanded Douglas.
"Well you see," said Mickey, "me and Mr. Chaffner of theHeraldwere talking a while ago about some poetry I'm going to write for his first page, soon now—I've always sold his papers you know, so I sort of belong—and I happened to tell him I was working for you, and how fine you were, and about your being engaged to Miss Leslie, and he seemed to kind of think you was heading for trouble; he just plainsaid so. I was so scared I begged him not to letthathappen. I told him how everything was, and finally I got him to promise that if youdidget into trouble he'd help you, at least healmostpromised. You see he's been a newspaper man so long, he eats it, and sleeps it, and he had a s'scoop'—"
"'He had a scoop?'" repeated Douglas.
"Yes! A great one! Biggest one in ten years!" said the boy. "He loved it so, that me trying to pry him loose from it was about like working to move the Iriquois Building with a handspike. All he'd promise that first trip was that if I'd come and tell him when I saw you'd got into trouble, he'dseewhat he could do."
"Wanted to pump you for material for his scoop, I suppose?" commentedDouglas.
"Wope! Wope! Back up!" warned Mickey. "He didn't pump me a little bit, and he didn'ttryto. He told me nearly three weeks ago just whatwouldhappen about now, as he had things doped out, and they have. I didn'tthinkthat letter should be delivered this morning, 'cause you had no business in 'darling old Daddy's' office if he said 'stay out.'" In came Mickey's best flourish. "Why he mightn't a-been ready!" he exclaimed. "He had his friend to help you remember, I heard Miss Leslie tell you he did. And she told him to. She told you he could have what she had, you remember of course. He might a-had to use some of his office money real quick, to save a friend that hehadto save if it took all he had and all Miss Leslie had; andthatwas right. I asked you the other day if a man might use the money he handled, and you said yes, he wasexpectedto, if he had his books straight and the money in the bank when his time for accounting came. 'Tain't time to account yet; but you was doing this investigating among his bunch, and so I guess if he did use the money for his friend, he had to go on that trip he was too busy to take Miss Leslie, and sell something, or do something to get ready for you.That'sall right, ain't it?"
"Yes, if he coulddoit," conceded Douglas.
"Well he can!" triumphed Mickey. "He can just as easy, 'cause he's down at the Universal Bank doing it right now!"
"What?" cried Douglas.
"Sure!" said Mickey. "Back on time! At the bank fixing things so you can investigate all you want to. What's the matter with 'darling old Daddy?'He's all right!Go on and write your letter over, and tell them anxious, irritated gents, that you'll investigate 'til the basement and cupola are finished, just as soon as you make out the reports you are figuring upnow. That will give you time to act independent, and it will give Daddy time to be ready for you——"
"Mickey, what if he didn't get the land sold?" wavered Douglas. "What if his trip was a failure?"
"Well that's fixed," said Mickey, stepping from one toe to the other. "Don't ruffle your down about that. If 'darling old Daddy' has bad luck, and for staking his money and his honour on his friend, he's going to get picked clean and dished up himself, why it's fixed so heisn't!See?"
"It's fixed?" marvelled Douglas.
"Surest thing you know!" cried Mickey. "You've had yourPertectorateall safe a long time, and didn't know it."
"Mickey, talk fast! Tell me! What do you mean?"
"Why that was fixed three weeks ago, I tell you," explained Mickey. "When Mr. Chaffner said you would strike trouble, I wasn't surprised any, 'cause I've thought all the time youwould;and when you did, I went skinning to him, and he told menotto deliver that letter; and he was grand, just something grand! He told me what had to happen to save you, so I kept the letter, and scuttled for Mr. James Minturn, who started all this, and I just said to him, 'Chickens, home to roost,' or words like that; and he got on the wire with Chaffner, and 'stead of giving that 'scoop' to all Multiopolis and the whole world, he give Mr. Minturn a few figures on a scrap of paper that he showed to his nice lady—gosh you wouldn't ever believe shewasa nice lady or could be, but honest, Mr. Bruce, me and her has been holding hands for half an hour while we planned to help you out, and say, she's so nice, she's just peachy—and she's thesamewoman. I don't know how that happens, but she's the same woman who fired me and the nice lady from Plymouth, and now sheain'tthe same, and these are the words she said: 'All I have on earth would not be enough to pay Leslie Winton for giving you back to me, and my boys, and my precious home.' 'Precious home!' Do you get that? After her marble palace, where she is now must look like a cottage on the green to her, but 'precious home' is what she said, and she ought to know——"
"Mickey go on! You were saying that Mr. Chaffner gave Mr. Minturn some figures—" prompted Douglas.
"Yes," said Mickey. "His precious 'scoop,' so Mr. Minturn showed her, and she said just as quick to put that amount to Mr. Winton's credit at the Universal Bank, so he called the bank to tell them; when he got the cashier he found that 'darling old Daddy' was there that minute——"
"'Was there?'" cried Douglas.
"'Was there,'" repeated Mickey; "so Mr. Minturn backed water, andthenhe told the cashier he needn't mention to Mr. Winton that he was going to turn over some securities he had there to pay a debt he owed him, 'cause now that he was home, they could fix it up between themselves. But he told the cashier to tell Mr. Winton that Miss Leslie was in his office. He said 'Daddy' would come to her the minute he could, and then if he was happy and all right, it meant that he had sold his land and made good; and if he was broke up, we would know what to do about putting the money to his credit. The nice lady said to put a lot more than he needed, so if they did investigate they could see he had plenty. See? Mr. Minturn said we could tell the minute we saw him——"
"Well young man, can you?" inquired a voice behind them.
With the same impulse Douglas and Mickey turned to Mr. Winton and Leslie standing far enough inside the door to have heard all that had been said. A slow red crept over Mickey's fair face. Douglas sprang to his feet, his hand outstretched, words of welcome on his lips. Mr. Winton put him aside with a gesture.
"I asked this youngster a question," he said, "and I'm deeply interested in the answer.Can you?"
Mickey stepped forward, taking one long, straight look into the face of the man before him; then his exultant laugh trilled as the notes of Peter's old bobolink bird on the meadow fence.
"Surest thing you know!" he cried in ringing joy. "You're tired, you need washing, sleep, and a long rest, but there isn't any glisteny, green look on your face. It's been with you, like I told Mr. Chaffner it's in the Bible; only with you, it's been even more than a man 'laying down his life for his friend,' it was a near squeak, but you made it! Gee, you made it! I should say Icouldtell!"
Mr. Winton caught Mickey, lifting him from his feet. "God made a jewel after my heart when he made you lad," he said. "If you haven't got a father, I'm a candidate for the place."
"Gee, you're the nicest man!" said Mickey. "If I was out with a telescope searching for a father, I'd make a home run for you; but you see I'm fairly well fixed. Here's my boss, too fine to talk about, that I work for to earn money to keep me and my family; there's Peter, better than gold, who's annexed both me and my child; there's Mr. Chaffner punching me up every time I see him about my job for him, soon as I finish school; I'dlikeyou for a father, only I'm crazy about Peter. Just you come and seePeter, and you'll understand——"
"I'll be there soon," said Mr. Winton. "I have reasons for wanting to know him thoroughly. And by the way, how do you do, Douglas? How is the great investigation coming on? 'Fine!' I'm glad to hear it. Push it with all your might, and finish up so we can have a month on Atwater without coming back and forth. I feel as if I'd need about that much swimming to make me clean, as the young man here suggests; travelling over the west in midsummer is neither cool nor cleanly; but it's great, when things sell as ours did. Land seems to be moving, and there's money under the surface; nobody has lost so much, they are only economizing; we must do that ourselves, but Swain and I are both safe, so we shall enjoy a few years of work to recoup some pretty heavy losses; we're not worth what we were, but we are even, with a home base, the love of God big in our hearts, and doubly all right, since if we couldn't have righted ourselves, our friends would have saved us, thanks to this little live wire on my left!"
"Oh Daddy, if you'd searched forever, you couldn't have found a better name for Mickey!" cried Leslie. "Come on Douglas let's go home and rest."
"Just as soon as I write and start Mickey with a note," said Douglas."Go ahead, I'll be down soon."
He turned to his desk, wrote a few lines, and sealing them, handed the envelope to the waiting boy.
"City Hall," he said. "And Mickey, I see the whole thing. It will take some time to figure just what I do owe you——"
"Aw-a-ah g'wan!" broke in Mickey, backing away.
"Mickey, we'll drive you to take the note, and then you come with us," said Douglas.
"Thanks, but it would try my nerve," said Mickey, "and I must helpPeter move in the pump!"
Mickey's Miracle
That night Mickey's voice, shrill in exuberant rejoicing, preceded him down the highway, so the Hardings, all busy working out their new plans for comfort, understood that something unusually joyous had happened. Peaches sat straighter in her big pillow-piled chair, leaned forward, and smilingly waited.
"Ain't he happy soundin'?" she said to Mrs. Harding, who sat near her sewing. "I guess he has thought out the best po'try piece yet. Mebby this time it will be good enough for the first page of theHerald."
"Young as he is, that's not likely," said the literal woman. "There's no manner of doubt in my mind but that hecando great newspaper work when he finishes his education and makes his start; but I think Mr. Bruce will use all his influence to turn him toward law."
"Mr. Douglas Bruce is a swell gentl'man," said Peaches, "and me and Mickey just loves him for his niceness to us; but we gotthatall settled. Mickey is going to write the po'try piece for the first page of theHerald—that's our paper—and then we are going to make all my pieces into a bu'ful book, like I got it started here."
Peaches picked up a small notebook, scrupulously kept, and lovingly glanced over the pages, on each of which she had induced Mickey to write in his plainest script one section of her nightly doggerel; and if he failed from the intense affairs of the day, she left a blank page for him to fill later. Taken together, the remainder of her possessions were as nothing to Peaches compared with that book. Not an hour of the day passed that it was not in her fingers, every line of it she knew by heart, and she learned more from it than all Mickey's other educational efforts. Peter scraped a piece of fine black walnut furniture free from the accumulated varnish of years, and ran an approving hand over the smooth dark surface, seasoned with long use. He smiled at her. She smiled back, falling into a little chant that had been on her lips much of the time of late: "You know, Peter! You know, Peter! We know somepin' we won't tell!"
Peter nodded, beaming on her.
"Just listen to that boy, Peter, he must be perfectly possessed!" saidNancy.
"He didn't ever sound so glad before!" cried the child eagerly.
Mickey came up the walk radiant. He divided a smile between Mrs. Harding and Peter, and bowed low before Peaches as he laid a package at her feet. Then he struck an attitude of exaggerated obeisance and recited:
"Days like this I'm tickled silly, When I see my August Lily. No other fellow, dude or gawk, Owns a flower that can laugh and talk."
Peaches immediately laughed; so did all of them.
"Peter," asked Mickey, "were you ever so glad that you thought you would bust wide open?"
"I was," said Peter; "I am this minute."
"Would you mind specifying circumstances?"
"Not a bit," said Peter. "First time was when Ma said she'd marry me, and I got my betrothal kiss; second, was the day she said she'd forgive my years of selfish dunderheadedness, and start over. Now you, Mickey, what's yours?"
"The great investigation is over, so far as our commission goes," answered Mickey. "Multiopolis isn't robbed where she was sure she was. Her accounts balance in the departments we've gone over. Nobody gets the slick face, the glass eye, the lawn mower on his cocoanut, or dons the candy suit from our work; but some folks I love had a near squeak, and I got a month vacation! Think of that, Miss Lily Peaches O'Halloran! Gee, let's get things fixed up here and have a party, to show the neighbouring gentlemen what's coming to them, before the weather gets so cold they won't have time to finish their jobs this fall. Some of them will squirm, but we don't care. Some of them will think they won't do it, but theywill. Kiss me, Lily! Hug me tight, and let me go dig on the furnace foundation 'til I sweat this out of me."
When the children were sleeping that night he sat on the veranda and told Mrs. Harding and Peter exactly what he thought wise to repeat of the day's experience and no more; so that when he finished, all they knew was that the investigation was over, so far as Mr. Bruce was concerned, Mickey had a vacation, and was a happy boy.
As she came to dinner the next day, Mary laid a bundle of mail beside her father's plate. When he saw it, Peter, as was his custom, reached for theHeraldto read the war headlines. He opened the paper, gave it a shake, stared at it in amazement, scanned a few lines and muttered: "Well for the Lord's sake!"
Then he glanced over the sheets at Mickey and back again. The family arose and hurried to a point of vantage at Peter's shoulder, while he spread the paper wide and held it high so that all of them could see. Enclosed in a small ruled space they read:
Sacred to the memory of the biggest scoop, That ever fell in MisterChaffner's soup,And was pitched by this nicest editor-man,Where it belonged, in the garbage can,To please his friend, Michael O'Halloran.Whoop fellers, whoop, for the drownded scoop, That departed this lifein our Editor's soup!All together boys, Scoop! Soup! Whoop!
They rushed at Mickey, shook hands, thumped, patted and praised him, when a wail arose to the point of reaching his consciousness.
"Mickey, what?" cried Peaches.
"Let me take it just a minute, Peter," said Mickey.
"Wait a second," suggested Mrs. Harding, picking up a big roll that they had knocked to the floor. "This doesn't look like catalogues, and it's addressed to you. Likely they've sent you some of your own."
"Now maybe Mr. Chaffner did," said Mickey, almost at the bursting point. "Course he is awful busy, the busiest man in the world, I expect, but hemighthave sent me a copy of my poetry, since he used it."
With shaking fingers he opened the roll, and there were several copies of theHeraldsimilar to the one Peter held, and on the top of one was scrawled in pencil: "Your place, your desk, and your salary are ready whenever you want to begin work. You can't come too soon to suit me.—CHAFFNER."
Mickey read it aloud.
"Gee!" he said. "I 'most wish I had education enough to begin right now. I'dlikeit! I could just gocrazyabout that job! Yes honey! Yes, I'm coming!"
He caught up another paper, and hurried across the room, quietly but decidedly closing the door behind him, so when Mary started to follow, Junior interposed.
"Better not, Molly," he said. "Mickey wants to be alone with his family for a few minutes. Say father, ain't there a good many newspaper men worked all their lives, and got no such show as that?"
"I haven't a doubt of it," said Peter.
"Mickey must have written that, and sent it in before he came home yesterday," said Mrs. Harding. "I call it pretty bright! I bet if the truth was told, something went wrong, and he was at the bottom of shutting it up. Don't you call that pretty bright, Pa?"
"I guess I'm no fair judge," said Peter. "I'm that prejudiced in his favour that when he said, 'See the cat negotiate the rat' out in the barn, I thought it was smart."
"Yes, and it was," commented Junior. "It's been funny for everybody to 'negotiate' all sorts of things ever since that north pole business, so it was funny for the cat too. Father, do you think that note really means that Mr. Chaffner would give Mickey a place on his paper, and pay him right now?"
"I don't know why Chaffner would write it out and sign his name to it if hedidn'tmean it," said Peter.
"You know he is full of stuff like that," said Junior. "He could do some every day about people other than Peaches if he wanted to. Father, ain't you glad he's in our family? Are you going to tell him to take that job if he asks you?"
"No I ain't," said Peter. "He's too young, and not the book learning to do himself justice, while that place is too grown up and exciting for a boy of his nerve force. Don't you think, Nancy?"
"Yes, I do, but you needn't worry," said Mrs. Harding. "Mickey knows that himself. Didn't you hear him say soon as he read it, that he hadn't the education yet? He's taken care of himself too long to spoil his life now, and he will see it; but I marvel at Chaffner. He ought to have known better. And among us, I wonder at Mickey. Where did he get it from?"
"Easy!" said Peter. "From a God-fearing, intelligent mother, and an irresponsible Irish father, from inborn, ingrained sense of right, and a hand-to-hand scuffle with life in Multiopolis gutters. Mickey is all right, and thank God, he'soursIf he does show signs of wanting to go to theHeraldoffice, discourage him all you can, Ma; it wouldn't be good for him—yet."
"No it wouldn't; but it would be because he needs solid study and school routine to settle him, and make himgreatinstead of a clown, as that would at his age. But if you think there is anything in theHeraldoffice that couldhurtMickey, you got another think coming. It wouldn't hurt Mickey; but it would be mighty good for the rest of them. TheHeraldhas more honour and conscience than most; some of the papers are just disgraceful in what they publish, and then take back next day; while folks are forced to endure it. Sit up and eat your dinners now. I want to get on with my work."
"Mickey, what happened?" begged Peaches as Mickey came in sight, carrying the papers.
He was trembling and tensely excited as her sharp eyes could see. They rested probingly a second on him, then on the paper. Her lips tightened while her eyes darkened. She stretched out her hand.
"Mickey, let me see!" she commanded.
Mickey knelt beside her, spreading out the sheet. Then he took her hand, setting a finger on the first letter of his name and slowly moved along as she repeated the letters she knew best of all, then softly pronounced the name. She knew theHeraldtoo. She sat so straight Mickey was afraid she would strain her back, lifting her head "like a queen," if a queen lifts her head just as high as her neck can possibly stretch, and smiled a cold little smile of supreme self-satisfaction.
"Now Mickey, go on and read what you wrote aboutme," her Highness commanded.
The collapse of Mickey was sudden and complete. He stared at Peaches, at the paper, opened his lips, thought a lie and discarded it, shut his lips to pen the lie in for sure, and humbly and contritely waited, a silent candidate for mercy. Peaches had none. To her this was the logical outcome of what she had been led to expect. There was the paper. The paper was theHerald. There was the front page. There was Mickey's name. She had no conception of Mickey writing a line which didnotconcern her; also he had expressly stated that all of them and the whole book were to be about her. She indicated the paper and his name, while the condescension of her waiting began to be touched with impatience.
"Mickey, why don't you go on and read what it says about me?" she demanded.
Mickey saw plainly what must be done. He gazed at her and suddenly, for the first time, a wave of something new and undefined rushed through him. This exquisitely delicate and beautiful little Highness, sitting so proudly straight, and so uncompromisingly demanding that he redeem his promises, made a double appeal to Mickey. Her Highness scared him until he was cold inside. He was afraid, and he knew it. He wanted to run, and he knew it; yet no band of steel could have held him as this bit of white femininity, beginning to glow a soft pink from slowly enriching blood, now held and forever would hold him, and best of all he knew that. It was in his heart to be a gentleman; there was nothing left save to be one now. He took both Peaches' hands, and began preparing her gently as was in his power for what had to come.
"Yes, Flowersy-girl," he said, "I'll read it to you, but you won't understand 'til I tell you——"
"I always understand," she said sweepingly.
"You know how wild like I came home last night," explained Mickey. "Well, I had reason. Some folks who have been good to us, and that I love like we love Peter and Ma, had been in awful danger of something that would make them sore all their lives, and maybe I had some little part in putting it over, so it never touched them; anyway, they thought so, and I was tickled past all sense and reason about it. It was up to the editor of theHeraldto decide; and what he did, was what I begged him to. Course left to himself, he would a-done it anyway,after he had time to think——"
"Mickey, read my po'try piece about me, an' then talk," urged Peaches.
"Honey, you make me so sick I can't tell you."
"Mickey, what's the matter?"
Peaches' penetrating eyes were slowly changing to accusing. She drew a deep breath, giving him his first cold, unrelenting look.
"Mister Michael O'Halloran," she said in incisive tones, "did you write a po'try piece for the first page of theHerald, notabout me?"
"Well Miss Chicken," he cried, "I wish you wouldn't talk so much! I wish you'd let metellyou."
"I guess you ain't got anything to tell," said Peaches, folding her arms and tilting her chin so high Mickey feared she might topple backward.
"I guess I have!" shouted Mickey. "Ididn't put that there! I didn'tmeanit tobethere! If I'd a-put it there, andmeantit there, and knowed it wouldbethere, it would a-been about you, of course! Answer me this, Miss. Any single time did I evernotdo anything that I said I would?"
"Nothing but this," admitted Peaches.
"There you go again!" said Mickey. "I tell you Ididn'tdothis, and when I tell you, I tell true, Miss, get that in your system. If you'd let me explain how it was, you'd see that I didn't have a single thing to do with it."
Peaches accomplished a shrug that was wonderful, and gazed at the ceiling, her lips closed. Mickey watched her a second, then he began softly: "Flowersy-girl, I don't see what you mean! I don't know why you act like this! I don't know what's to have a tantrum for, when I didn'tmeanit to be there, and didn'tknowit would be there. Honest, I don't!"
"Go on an' read it!" she commanded.
Mickey obeyed. As he finished she faced him in wonder.
"Why they ain't a damn bit of sense to it!" she cried.
"Coursethere ain't!" agreed Mickey. "Course therewould beno sense to anything that wasn't aboutyou!"
"Then what did you put it there in my place for?"
"I didn't! I'm trying to tell you!" persisted Mickey.
Peaches shed one degree of royal hauteur. "Well why don't you go on an' tell, then?"
"Aw-w-ah! Well if you don't maneuver to beat a monoplane! I've tried to tell you, and you won'tletme. If you stop me again, I'm going to march out of this room and stay 'til you bawl your eyes red for me."
"If you go, I'll call Junior!" said Peaches instantly.
"Well go on and call him!"
He turned, his heart throbbing, his eyes burning with repressed tears, the big gulp in his throat audible to Peaches, as her little wail was to him. He whirled and dropping on his knees took her in his arms. She threw hers around his neck, buried her face against his cheek, and they cried it out together. At last she produced a bit of linen, and mopped Mickey's eyes and face, then her own. While still clinging to him she whispered: "Mickey, I'm jus' aboutdeadto have it be theHerald, an' thefront page, an'you, an'notaboutme!"
"Flowersy-girl, I'm just as sorry as you are," said Mickey. "It was this way: I was just crazy over things our editor-man did, that saved our dear boss and the lovely Moonshine Lady who gave you your Precious Child and her 'darling old Daddy' from such awful trouble it would just a-killed them; honest it would Lily! When our editor-man was so great and nice, and did what he didn'twantto at all, I went sort of wild like, and when I was off for the day and got on the streets, everything pulled me his way. I was anxious just to see him again, and if I'd done what I wanted to, I'd a-gone in theHeraldoffice and knelt down, and said: 'Thank you, oh thank you!' and kissed his feet, but of course I knew men didn't do like that, and it would have shamed him, but I had to do something or bust, and I went running for the office like flying, and my mind got whirling around, and that stuff began to come.
"I slipped in and back to his desk, like I may if I want to, and there he sat. He had a big white sheet just like this before it is printed, spread out, and a pencil in his fingers, and about a dozen of his best men were crowding 'round with what they had for the paper to-day. I've told you how they do it, often, and when I edged up some of the men saw me. They knew I had a pass to him, so they stepped back just as he said: 'Well boys, who's got somebig stuffto fill the space of our departed scoop?' That 'departed' word means lost, gone, and it's what they say about people when they—they go for good. Then he looked up to see who would speak first, and noticed me. 'Oh there is the little villain who scooped our scoop, right now,' he said. 'Let's make him fill the space he's cut us out of.' I thought it was a joke, but I wasn't going to have all that bunch of the swellest smarties who work for him put it clear over me; I've kidded back with my paper men too long for that; so I stepped back and shot it at him, that what's printed there, and when I got to the end and invited the fellows to 'Whoop,' Lily, you could a-heard them a mile. I saw they was starting for me, so I just slung in a 'Thank you something awful, boss,' and ducked through and between, and cut for life; 'cause if they'd a-got me, I might a-been there yet. They are thenicestmen on earth, but they get a little keyed up sometimes, and a kid like me couldn't keep even. Now that's all there is to it, Lily, honest, cross my heart! Ididn'tknow they would put it there. I didn't know they thought it wasgoodenough. I wouldn't a-let them for the life of them, if I'dknownthey was going to."
"You jus' said it once, Mickey?" inquired Peaches.
"Jus' once, Flowersy-girl, fast as I could rattle."
"It's twice as long as mine ever are," she said. "I don't see how they 'membered."
"Oh that!" cried Mickey. "Why honey, that's easy! Those fellows jump on to a thing like chained lightning, and they got a way of writing that is just a lot of little twists and curls, but one means a whole sentence—they call it 'shorthand'—and doing that way, they can set down talk as fast as anybody can speak, and there were a dozen of them there with pencils and paper in their fingers. That wasn't anything for them!"
"Mickey, are you going to learn to write that way?"
"Sure!" said Mickey. "Before I go to theHeraldto take my desk, and my 'signment,' I've got to know, and you ought to know too; 'cause I always have to bring what I write to you first, to see if you like it."