CHAPTER V
CHAPTER V
Gently but firmly taking the bleeding finger in her little hand, Rosanna bound it up in the strips of linen, folding them back and forth in quite a professional manner. Helen helped her to tie the bandages. Not until they had finished did they take time to glance up at the old gentleman. He was deathly white and leaned heavily against the cushions.
“Now, sir,” said Rosanna, “if you will have your man drive you to a doctor, he will treat it with an antiseptic and it will soon be all right.”
The old gentleman commenced to brace up as he saw that the bleeding at least was checked. The girls got out of the car, and the old gentleman with a muttered, “Thank you, thank you,” gave an order and the chauffeur drove rapidly away.
“He saidthank youonce for each of us anyway,” said Helen.
Elise shuddered. “Your dress!” she said, pointing to Rosanna. Sure enough, Rosanna was spattered with blood.
“Oh, dear, I will have to be late,” she said. “Just look at me! I will have to go back and put on a clean dress.” She turned reluctantly andran back home, while the others went on to school and the automobile carried the old gentleman rapidly to the office of his doctor.
While the physician was attending to the hand, the old gentleman, whose name was Harriman, sat and sputtered:
“First time I ever saw any children with a grain of common sense!” he declared. “Little girl acted in a fairly intelligent manner. Suppose it wouldn’t happen again. Children never know anything, especially girls. Bah!”
“Oh, yes, they do, Mr. Harriman,” said Doctor Greene soothingly. “Oh, yes, they do! Now I have two little girls of my own, and I can tell you—”
“Don’t!” said Mr. Harriman. “I make it a point never to listen to fond parents. I am sure the two girls who fixed me up were unusual—very unusual.”
“Yes, they were,” said the doctor. “You will have an easier time with this hand of yours, thanks to their skill.”
“Queer!” said Mr. Harriman. “Seemed to know just what to do.”
“Must have been Girl Scouts,” said the doctor musingly.
“Girl Scouts? What foolishness is that?” said Mr. Harriman.
The doctor smiled. He thought of his own two daughters.
“Ask them about it,” he said, rising, and would say no more.
Mr. Harriman limped out.
“What are Girl Scouts?” Mr. Harriman asked his chauffeur as they drove to his office.
“I dunno, sah,” said the colored man, starting. He always jumped when Mr. Harriman spoke. Everyone wanted to.
“Idiot!” said Mr. Harriman.
“Yes, sah,” said the chauffeur cheerfully.
There seemed nothing else to say.
Mr. Harriman’s hand healed very quickly for so old a man, and the doctor stubbornly gave all the credit to Rosanna’s first-aid treatment. Mr. Harriman could say “Stuff and nonsense!” as many times as he liked, but it made no difference to the doctor, who smiled and refused to discuss the matter. Mr. Harriman commenced to have a troublesome conscience. He felt as though he should call and thank the little girl who had befriended him to such good purpose, especially as he had known Rosanna’s grandmother all her life, but he could not bring himself to do it and contented himself with sending two immense wax dolls and a huge box of candy to Rosanna’s house addressed to “The two girls who recently bound up my hand.” Rosanna and Helen were quite embarrassed, but Mrs. Horton, who was immensely amused, told them that all that was necessary was a note of thanks, which they wrote and sent off in a great hurry. Theydidn’t want to keep Mr. Harriman waiting. No one did. But he couldn’t find out anything about the Girl Scouts because the only persons he asked were the very persons who would never know anything much about anything that had to do with girls or good times or youth or happiness. He asked his old friends at the club, when he felt like talking at all, and so the time went on.
In the meantime, at a Scout meeting Rosanna found herself telling the girls all about Gwenny and the play and the plans for sending the poor little cripple to Cincinnati for the operation which might make her well. It was onlymight. Doctor MacLaren and the other doctors whom he had taken to see Gwenny would only say that it could betried. And the great surgeon, Dr. Branshaw, had written Dr. MacLaren that as soon as the child was in a fit condition she could be brought to him and he would do what he could. He said nothing about the cost, Rosanna noticed, when she read his letter, so she could not tell the girls what the operation would cost. They were all as interested as they could be and promised to work as hard as they could selling tickets, and the ones who were chosen to take parts in the play were very happy about it. As a matter of fact, all of them were to come on the stage, for those who had no speaking parts came on and marched and so had a share in the glory.
And the way they learned their parts! They almost mastered them over night. Rehearsals wenton, and the day was set for the entertainment.
There was a great deal of hammering up in Mrs. Hargrave’s barn. Mrs. Hargrave and Miss Hooker and Uncle Robert spent a good deal of time up there, but they would not let anyone else in. Even Elise was barred out, and although she wrung her little hands and talked a funny mixture of French and English in her pretty coaxing way, not one of the three would relent and let her peek in. “Wait until it comes time for the dress rehearsals,” was all they would say.
A week before the play, a big box came for Uncle Robert. He opened it in Rosanna’s room. It was full of tickets nicely printed on yellow pasteboard. Rosanna read them with rapture: the name of the play,herplay, and at the top in large print,
BENEFIT PERFORMANCE
BENEFIT PERFORMANCE
“You have not said anything about what the performance is to be a benefitfor.” said Rosanna.
“That’s all right,” said her uncle.
“And you have forgotten to say the price of the tickets,” wailed Helen, who was again spending the night.
“Well,” said Mr. Horton, “when I went to order those tickets for you, I had an idea. And it was this. I thought as long as this was a benefit performance, why not let it benefit everybody present?”
“How can it do that?” asked Rosanna.
“In this way,” said Uncle Robert. “There willbe all sorts of people there, because some of the Girl Scouts, Miss Hooker says, are very poor indeed, and some of them belong to families who have plenty of money. So Miss Hooker suggested a very good scheme. Tell the girls when they sell tickets to say that as it is a benefit and so forth and so forth, that the tickets are simply to let the people into the hall. As they go out they are to pay whatever they think it is worth, from five cents up.”
“Perfectly splendid!” said Helen, catching the idea at once.
“I don’t know,” answered Rosanna. “They will have seen the performance and suppose everybody will feel as though it is worth only a nickel?”
“Oh, they won’t feel like that at all, Rosanna,” said Helen. “I think every single person will think it is worth a quarter. Think if they would all pay twenty-five cents!”
“I know several who expect to pay a dollar,” said Uncle Robert.
“If they only will,” cried Rosanna, almost sobbing, “Gwenny can go to Cincinnati this very winter! I think it is a good idea, Uncle Robert. After all, it is a good thing that you did consult with Miss Hooker, even if ithastaken a lot of your time. I think you have been so kind.”
“Oh, I haven’t minded,” said Uncle Robert in a generous way.
“Why, you must have minded,” went onRosanna. “I have kept track all I could, because I was so much obliged to you, and you have been over there at Miss Hooker’s house consulting—well, you had to go over five nights last week, and Miss Hooker is always saying, ‘I had a telephone today from your uncle.’ You must be tired to death. I nearly told Miss Hooker so, but I thought it might sound rude.”
“You are right about that, Rosanna; it would have been very rude indeed, excessively rude I may say,” said Mr. Horton with some haste. “I can scarcely think of anything worse for you to say. My sainted Maria!”
“I didn’t say it,” Rosanna assured him, “and the thing is so nearly over now, only a week more, that it really doesn’t matter.”
“Not a particle!” said Mr. Horton. “But I wish you would promise me that you won’t say anything of the sort. Not that it matters, but I seem to feel nervous.”
“Of course I will promise,” agreed Rosanna. “I love Miss Hooker but of course I love you more, and I just do hate to have you bothered.”
“It is mighty nice of you, sweetness, but you must not worry about me at all. Now to change the conversation, as the man said when he had nearly been hanged by mistake, you give these tickets out to your Girl Scouts and tell them to offer them to the people who would be most likely to give more than a nickel. It ought to be easy.They are to say that the benefit will cost them five cents or up as they leave the hall. With your permission, I will make a few remarks and tell them about Gwenny. But we will not mention her by name, because if there should be a newspaper reporter lurking around he would put it in the papers and that would be very embarrassing.”
After Uncle Robert had gone out the girls made the tickets up in little bundles, one for each girl in the group. Their own they spread out on the table, planning how they would dispose of them.
“Whom shall you sell to first?” asked Helen.
“Mr. Harriman,” said Rosanna quietly.
Helen dropped her tickets. “Dearme, Rosanna!” she cried. “I would be too afraid to offer him a ticket.”
“Iam not,” said Rosanna. “I would do more than that for Gwenny, and I am not afraid of him at all. Not even if he roars. And he has lots and lots of money. I shouldn’t wonder at all that he will be one of the dollar ones if he comes. And he hasgotto come if I go after him.”
“Dearme!” said Helen again, quite awed. “You are brave. Shall I come with you?”
“If you like,” replied Rosanna. “We will go right after school tomorrow.”
The interview with Mr. Harriman took place as planned the first thing after school. School let out at two o’clock, and it was half-past when the girls mounted the steps of the grim old fortress inwhich Mr. Harriman lived. Now it happened that half past two was a very dark hour for Mr. Harriman because at about that time he was always in the clutch of a bad attack of indigestion brought on daily because he wouldnotmind his doctor and omit pickles and sweets from his bill of fare. At this time he read the morning paper and reviled the world at large. His sister always left him with the excuse that she wanted to lie down, and he was alone with his abused stomach and his pepsin tablets and his thoughts.
The two girls entered the room and waited for him to speak.
Mr. Harriman looked up from his reading with a dark scowl. Most of the newspaper was on the floor where he had thrown it to stamp on. He always felt better when he stamped on the editorials that displeased him most. It seemed to soothe his feelings. He managed to grunt, “’Dafternoon! ’Dafternoon!” when he saw the two girls advance across his library, and then he waited, looking over the tops of a very grubby pair of glasses for them to state their errands. It was Rosanna who spoke first, although generally Helen was the spokesman. But Helen was frankly afraid of the grouchy old gentleman, while Rosanna was too anxious to help Gwenny to be afraid of anyone. So she said, “Please excuse us, Mr. Harriman, if we have interrupted your reading.”
“Well, you have!” said Mr. Harriman gruffly.“Whadder you want? Sell me chances on a doll’s carriage or sofy pillow? Who’s getting up your fair? Meth’dist, ’Piscopal? Here’s a dime.”
He held out the money, which Rosanna took gently and laid on the table beside him.
“Thank you,” she said. “We don’t want any money today. We have come to tell you about an entertainment we are going to give. First if you don’t mind I think I will just shine up your glasses. You can’t see to think through them the way they are,” and as Helen looked on, expecting to see Rosanna snapped in two any second, she held out her hand for the glasses, shaking out a clean pocket handkerchief as she did so. No one was more surprised than Mr. Harriman himself when he took off the smeary spectacles and handed them to Rosanna, who silently polished them and handed them back. Theywerebetter; Mr. Harriman acknowledged it with a grunt.
“Girls are real handy,” said Rosanna with her sweet smile.
“Grrrrrr!” from Mr. Harriman. “Whadded you want to tell me?” but his voice certainly seemed a shade less gruff.
Rosanna, speaking distinctly and as carefully as though she was explaining to a small child, told the old man about Gwenny and the benefit and after that, as he sat perfectly still looking at her through unnaturally shiny glasses, she went on to tell him about the Girl Scouts. You couldn’t tell whetherhe cared a snap about it, but at all events he listened, and Helen and Rosanna both thought it was a good sign. They did not dare to glance at each other, but Rosanna went on talking until she felt that she had told him all that he would want to know if he had been a regular sort of a human being instead of a grouchy, cross old man who seemed to delight in scaring everyone away from him.
“That’s all,” said Rosanna finally, smiling up into the scowling old face.
There was a long silence,
“Grrrrrr!” said Mr. Harriman again. “So you want me to come to your show, do you? Haven’t been to a show for forty years! No good! Silly!”
“Ours isn’t,” declared Helen, suddenly finding her voice. “Our entertainment is perfectly splendid!”
“Perfectly splendid!” mimicked Mr. Harriman. “Sounds just like a woman! All alike, regardless of age. Grrrrrr!”
“You will come, won’t you?” asked Rosanna. “Please do! You see it is only a nickel if you do not think it is worth more.”
“A great many persons are going to pay a quarter,” hinted Helen.
“All right, all right!” said Mr. Harriman. “You are less objectionable than most children. I will come if I can remember it.”
“Suppose I come after you?” suggested Rosanna, remembering what she had said to Helen about getting Mr. Harriman if she had to come after him.
“All right, all right! Let it go at that! I know your sex! You will forget all about your agreement by the time you reach the next corner. If you come after me, I will go to your show. In the Hargrave barn, eh? Anything to sit on, or shall I bring a chair?”
“No, sir; Uncle Robert has fixed seats and everything. And I will come for you quite early because I have to be there doing my part.”
“That’s nuff!” grunted Mr. Harriman, nodding curtly. “’Dafternoon!” He resumed his paper, and as he caught the opening sentences of the article before him, there came a sound like the grating of teeth and the noise of a large boiler that is about to explode.
The girls said, “Good afternoon!” in two small voices and went out as quickly as they could.
Helen breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the outer air.
“Rosanna, you are certainly a very brave girl,” she said. “I am glad to get out alive. Every minute I expected to hear him say, ‘Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an English-mun!’”
Rosanna laughed.
“He is pretty awful,” she granted. “But I mean to make him come. I think it will do himgood to see that play, and I shall certainly go after him. If he thinks I am going to forget about him, he is greatly mistaken.”
“Let’s try to get rid of all our tickets this afternoon. You know we are to meet Uncle Robert at the barn at five o’clock to see the theatre he has fixed up. Oh, Helen, I amsoexcited!”
For a couple of hours the girls repeated the story of Gwenny and the benefit until they could say it by heart. The tickets went so fast that they were sorry that they did not have twice as many. At a quarter of five they hurried back to Mrs. Hargrave’s, where Elise was waiting for them and Uncle Robert soon joined them. There was a short wait then, because he refused to unlock the door before Miss Hooker arrived although the girls begged and begged, assuring him that she wouldn’t mind.
Finally they heard the tap, tap, tap of her tiny shoes on the old brick walk, and round the corner she came, looking more dimply and dainty and altogether beautiful than ever. Uncle Robert looked as though he could eat her, but somehow it was not the sort of look he had given Rosanna that other time. Not at all! Rosanna noticed it.