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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5824248 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54749 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54749) diff --git a/old/54749-0.txt b/old/54749-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3e686b9..0000000 --- a/old/54749-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4546 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Billy To-morrow's Chums, by Sarah Pratt Carr - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Billy To-morrow's Chums - -Author: Sarah Pratt Carr - -Illustrator: Robert Davison - -Release Date: May 20, 2017 [EBook #54749] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BILLY TO-MORROW'S CHUMS *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - -Billy To-Morrow’s Chums - - - - -[Illustration: “Hello, young feller! What are you out of quod for?” - -[Page 86]] - - - - - “BILLY TO-MORROW” SERIES - - BILLY TO-MORROW’S - CHUMS - - By - SARAH PRATT CARR - - Author of - The Iron Way, Billy To-Morrow, Billy To-Morrow in Camp, - Billy To-Morrow Stands the Test - - Illustrated by - ROBERT J. DAVISON - - [Illustration] - - CHICAGO - A. C. McCLURG & CO. - 1913 - - - - - Copyright - A. C. McCLURG & CO. - 1913 - - Published November, 1913 - - W. F. Hall Printing Company - Chicago - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - “Hello, young feller! What are you out of quod for?” _Frontispiece_ - - “Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered 12 - - She was in evening dress 132 - - A premonition of disaster swept him 138 - - “Mine leetle Ida would be eighteen already” 164 - - “Here she is!” Max shouted wildly 188 - - - - -Billy To-Morrow’s Chums - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -The night was dark, the darkest he ever knew, Sydney Bremmer thought as -he went his rounds to see if the place was in order. When first he came -to live with Mrs. Schmitz he had to take a lantern; but now he was so -accustomed to the narrow, soft lanes that led up and down the nursery -between close rows of shrubs and flowers, and to the passages in the -greenhouses, that he could “feel his way,” as he could in the same way -tell when the temperature was right. - -As for the little furnace, its own cheerful light, when he opened the -doors to fill the fire box and bank the fire, not only showed the way to -the coal bin, but sent long streamers of genial light into the black -night, and flooded the boy’s face with a weird color that made him look -like a fire spirit. - -Once between noises he thought he heard something under one of the plant -shelves, and called to see if it was the dog, Blitzen. No dog appeared, -and everything seemed to be in place. Thinking he had been mistaken, -Sydney closed the furnace, fastened the greenhouse door, and ran through -the nursery gate to the porch, where he put out the milk bottles and -patted Blitzen, saying good night in the silent, boyish fashion that the -dog well understood. - -As he entered the kitchen, very quietly he thought, a woman’s voice -called from above, “That you, Seedney? How late you sit up.” - -“Yes. Had trouble with my geometry. Everything’s all right.” - -“So? Good! Sleep forty miles the hour till breakfast. I’ll call you. -Think of nothing but rest. Good night.” - -Sydney returned her good night, mounted the wide stairs, and passed -through the long hall, dark as Erebus but for a faint gleam under a door, -the one leading to Mrs. Schmitz’s room. Always her tiny night light sent -its friendly beacon to Sydney through the window as he came round the -house from his rounds in the nursery. - -His room was warm from the comfortable stove; and light from the student -lamp lent an air of refinement to the chamber not in keeping with the -cheap furnishings. - -But Sydney did not mind the cheapness of things. The pine bureau and -bedstead painted gaudily, the table with pitcher and bowl that served -for a lavatory, the cheap chairs and cotton carpet, chromos on the wall -and nails in the closet--these makeshifts were luxury to the lad who had -known continuous hardship in his newsboy days after the great fire in his -native city, San Francisco. - -This warm nest was a haven of peace and comfort. Towels and sheets were -soft and clean, the blankets fleecy and warm, and the pillows the very -home of sleep for a head that had long pillowed on a roll of papers. - -And on those nails in the tiny closet was the luxury of a best and a -second best suit; on the table books and papers, with permission to -study or read as late as he pleased. When he entered his den, set the -stove roaring, and settled at ease in his old cane “rocker,” a peace -and satisfaction filled him that could well be the envy of the richest -millionaire living. - -This night, chilled from his errand in the cold, he looked around with -renewed appreciation. He wound his nickel clock and turned off the -alarm. At first he had disregarded Mrs. Schmitz’s injunction to sleep on -Sunday morning, believing it his duty to be on hand for the early work -that knows no holiday. But she was a woman of authority, and Sydney had -long ago found it as necessary to obey her orders for his comfort as -for those concerning his work. As he became better acquainted with the -lonely, eccentric woman, he was more than willing to heed her wishes. - -One of these was that he should sleep with windows wide open. To-night -the inrush of cold air drenched from the salt Sound took the sleep from -his eyes and sent the quick blood to his brain; and with it a hundred -ideas that came tumbling over one another for notice. - -The most important matter was a growing puzzle to him: why the girls at -school would not treat Ida Jones, who worked for her board, as well as -the boys treated him, who worked for his board. - -Of course she was a junior; yet when he had been a junior he had found -no such battle to fight. Suddenly he remembered his friends, Reginald -Steele, Hec Price, “Sis” Jones, and Billy To-morrow--good old Billy, who -had always been his friend since the day on the coast steamer when Billy -interceded for the stowaway, Sydney. A word from any of these was as good -as a proclamation from the whole of an under class. - -Yet for Ida it was not the same; she had something quite different from a -boy’s troubles to fight, wholly feminine and mysterious. - -A bright idea came--he would ask Bess Carter about it; she was sure to -set “something doing” for Ida; and if she did the other girls would -promptly fall in line. - -But how could he accomplish it? To speak to a girl, even bluff, -common-sense Bess, had come to be a pain during the past year. He could -not understand it; hated himself for it, and spent long silent hours when -he should have slept, composing brilliant dialogues between himself and -some girl, only to slink by the first time he met her. Even a word from -lonely Ida, whom accident had thrown in his way, set him in a panic. - -How long he lay living over his vivid school life, building youth’s -air castles, he did not know. He thought he had not slept, yet started -suddenly at the sound of soft footsteps at the other end of the hall, and -quickly rose and looked out of his door. - -Mrs. Schmitz with a lighted taper was standing at the head of the stairs, -listening. Her hair hung in a long braid, and the straight lines of her -heavy kimono disguised her large figure and gave her a weird stateliness -that made Sydney think of some serpent-bound goddess from old mythology. - -He slid into his slippers, pulled around him the spread from the bed, -caught up the poker from under the stove, and hurried to her. - -“What is it,” he whispered, “a burglar?” - -“Nothing, I guess. What you up for? I catch him mine self.” - -Both listened intently. The stillness lasted so long that Sydney thought -her mistaken, when a sliding sound came from below. - -“You stay here,” he whispered; “I’ll go down.” - -“No, you don’t! I won’t have you killed all alone. I come too.” - -“Blow out the light then. We must see him first,” Sydney ordered. “Got -any matches?” - -“Yes,” she whispered. - -Silently they crept down the stairs. - -On the stairs Sydney planned. “You stand at one side of the kitchen door -and when I call, light the candle so I can see.” - -“But he may catch you first, hurt----” - -“I know the kitchen and he doesn’t. Do as I say, and we’ll get him.” - -The house was large and two closed doors were between them and the -burglar. Sydney was wondering if he could open them quietly, when Mrs. -Schmitz stepped in front of him and noiselessly threw open one of them -while he was thinking about it. From under the pantry door came a thin -gleam of light. - -“He thinks to find silver. He iss fooled.” - -Sydney could hear the laugh in her words although they were whispered. -“Stay here,” he ordered, and before she knew his intention, he had turned -the key in the pantry door, and was hurrying out of the kitchen to -barricade the pantry window from the outside. - -But she had come to the end of obedience. She flew after him, heedless -of noise, caught and held him back, saying excitedly, “Not for anything -shall you go out there. Mebbe more come.” - -From pure astonishment rather than obedience he paused an instant, when -the light vanished from under the door, and some one ran into the dark -room. - -Both rushed after him, laid hold of him, and dragged him to the floor. - -“Go away! He may have a gun. I’ve got him fast,” Sydney cried. - -“Ant if he has a gun we will take it away,” the woman answered pluckily, -still keeping her weight on the prostrate figure. “You hunt for it, -Seedney.” - -The man, trapped, fought fiercely for liberty. It was a silent struggle -there in the dark. They knew not what moment a light, or a gun from a -confederate, might be flashed upon them, yet thought not of yielding. - -Neither of the out-flying hands held a gun, Sydney discovered, and -between blows he tried to reach the man’s pockets, but without success; -partly because the valiant German woman managed to keep her bulk well -over him. - -Suddenly all strength left the culprit. In an instant his body grew limp -and he resisted no more. “I give up. I haven’t any gun,” came in a hoarse -whisper, followed by a cough that shook the woman now calmly sitting on -his back. - -“Seedney, find the clo’es line; in the storeroom--we’ll tie him; then let -him get up.” - -Sydney lighted the lamp and quickly brought a rope, with which they bound -him as he lay, face downward; and when Mrs. Schmitz with difficulty -regained her feet she ordered him to rise. - -To their surprise he lay motionless and silent except for the cough he -tried to suppress. They waited, Sydney wondering if the man were only -feigning; Mrs. Schmitz suspecting his exhaustion. - -“Go, quick, and telephone for the police. I’m a match for him now.” -Sydney lifted his poker threateningly, though afterward he smiled, -remembering how thorough was their work of tying. - -But the woman’s keen eyes had seen something that arrested her. Though -the man made no attempt to obey, she saw him tremble, saw his shoulders -lift; heard his indrawn, convulsive breath, and knew what it meant. -Much quicker than she had risen she dropped on her knees beside him, a -mother’s tenderness in her rich voice. - -“Look at me! You are sorry! Almost you could cry. No bad man does that -when he iss robbing--when he iss caught. He fights, or mebbe he says -damn. You are no bad man.” - -She laid her hand tenderly on his head and tried to see his face; but he -still held it to the floor, fighting his cough. He wore a thin suit much -too large for him, and his shoes were broken, showing his bare feet. - -“Get up, man. Whatever robbing you have done you find not much money, I -guess.” - -Before he could move, a violent spasm of coughing shook him pitifully. -She turned, caught up the spread Sydney had dropped, and threw it over -him. “Watch him till I come back,” she called, and ran out through the -dining room, surprisingly fast for a heavy woman. “Tie him in a chair, -and make a fire, Seedney,” she added in a high voice from the hall; and -in a moment they heard the stairs creaking under her. - -“Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered, pushing the kitchen “rocker” -toward the other. - -[Illustration: “Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered] - -Painfully the man obeyed, disclosing a face gaunt from hunger but as -youthful as Sydney’s own, and a slender, emaciated frame. - -“Gee! You’re just a kid, too. What’re you up against?” he questioned as -he put the kitchen door key in his pocket and locked the window. “You -don’t look the housebreaker part one little bit,” he continued, and began -to build a fire. - -“I’m certainly an amateur; this is my first appearance,” the youth -returned in a husky voice. - -“You’ve queered yourself with this audience; why did you try it?” - -“No home, no work, no money, and everybody afraid of me--tuberculosis -they think I have.” - -“Have you?” - -“I think not; but I soon shall have it if I don’t find work and enough to -eat. I haven’t slept in a bed for a week; no money for ten days.” - -“Gee! That’s hard luck. I know how it is myself.” - -“What? You? She’s too good a mother for you to be talking of hard luck.” -In spite of weariness he smiled his incredulity. - -“Mother, nothing! Mine is dead. She’s a good one though. And I’m in out -of the wet now all right. But it was different when I was a San Francisco -newsy, sleeping over bakery gratings.” - -The other boy stared at Sydney enviously. “How did you come through -so--so to the good? Chicken fixings and a gentleman’s sleeping outfit?” -He eyed Sydney’s neat pajamas and slippered feet. “Gee! I’d be glad of as -good as that for the day time.” - -Sydney had set the lamp on a table near the other boy, and his pale face -was sharply revealed. When Mrs. Schmitz, hastily dressed, entered, he -looked up appealingly, but said nothing and dropped his head again on his -breast. - -“Mine goodness! You’re only a boy!” she exclaimed. - -“Did you call the police?” Sydney asked. - -“No policeman yet. I want to talk mit him first.” The captive stirred -uneasily. “When have you something to eat?” - -“Night before last. That’s what--what I came for--I couldn’t stand it any -longer.” - -“Ant also you freeze.” - -“No. Three nights I have slept in your greenhouse. It’s warm there -and----” - -“Yes, yes! Too warm and too wet for coughing. No longer you will sleep -so. Seedney, get him that one coat you don’t wear any more, and other -warm clo’es you have. I buy you more. Ant yourself dress; pretty soon you -also will be coughing.” - -Sydney added some light wood to his fire and hurried to do her bidding, -coming again in no time, it seemed to him; yet in those few minutes Mrs. -Schmitz had hot milk ready and savory food steaming on the stove. - -Still obeying her, Sydney untied the boy’s hands and then puttered about -the room, bringing the kitchen dishes to the table, keeping busy that the -other chap might not feel himself watched. Yet Sydney did not let his -eyes wander far; his street training had made him wary. - -“Put on more dishes, ant also the good ones with knifes from the dining -room. We also shall eat mit the company. It iss now already past two -o’clock ant I myself am hungry.” - -Neither Sydney nor Mrs. Schmitz appeared to think it strange that they -should be calmly supping with one they had just caught and thrown--one -who still sat tied to his chair. - -She coaxed the stranger to tell his story. It was little different from -the many; untrained, without friends, and consequently the first to be -set adrift in slack times. - -“It is only work I need,” he finished. - -“Why have you no work? You have parents, ant home?” - -The boy nodded and hung his head. “My father is living, not my mother. -But I--I can’t go home. I----” He looked up fearlessly. - -“I cannot tell you why, though it is nothing to be ashamed of. Only I--I -can’t go home. If I could get work I would not steal. But if you have no -work, what can you do?” - -“You shall have work, sure!” she exclaimed earnestly. “Pretty soon; when -you say good-by to that cough. By me you shall stay till you eat much and -get strong. Then I will find work for you.” - -He looked up, startled. “You will keep me--Max Ball,--keep me here in -your house, when I have--have tried to rob you?” - -“Well, why not? You only need to eat. I also must eat; if not from my own -dish, then--from some other man’s.” - -“You--you trust me?” He could not seem to understand. - -“See here, boy. You cannot steal from me. No man takes from me one little -thing only it iss something I ought not to have. You already have tried -it once. Did you get away mit the goods?” She laughed as if it was a good -joke, while the boy still stared. - -“You think that iss funny; it iss this way. You come here to rob me, -ant you fail because some one--the Great One--iss seeing you. You have -tried hard as you can to do right; but you are full of cold, hunger, -lonesomeness; you cannot see life iss good any more. So the goot Gott im -himmel sends you to one old woman who iss not afraid, ant she has enough -for one boy more. You stay by me?” - -The warmth, the steaming food that all at once made him faint, the -welcome where he had expected, if not rough treatment, certainly arrest, -and especially the kindness that recalled the memory of all a loving -mother could be,--these were too much for him; he sobbed like a child. - -“Get the salt, Seedney!” Mrs. Schmitz cried; “you are stupid to forget!” - -Sydney knew well this hardness was only assumed to shield the other boy. -Looking from the pantry he saw her go swiftly behind the captive, put her -big arm round his shaking shoulders, and smooth back the tangled dark -hair. But her words were rough; she knew it was a dangerous time for -sympathy. - -“Stop this already! By me nobody cries. Everybody laughs. Keep still the -shoulders, I tell you! They pump up and down like a windmill in a big -wind. Also like old windmills with rust on ’em; I can hear ’em squeak -already. Stop the noise mit your mouth and put something in it.” - -So she rattled on with rude words, but her hand never ceased its -soothing, hypnotic motion above the too white brow; and in a moment it -seemed to Sydney the boy was quiet, and she had unbound him. - -“Seedney, will you stay hunting salt till to-morrow already? What keeps -you, dumkopf?” - -Sydney’s face was flushed when he entered. He did not relish being called -a blockhead even in German. And back of that resentment was another -emotion he did not then recognize--jealousy. This fly-by-night, this -sneak thief, was to come right into the family, to share what he, Sydney, -had so long enjoyed as all his own. - -A little sullenly and noisily he put the salt-cellar on the table. Mrs. -Schmitz, looking up, caught the meaning on his face. At the moment she -forgot that Sydney’s feeling was natural; forgot that a boy cannot -understand the instinct that makes the mother ready to sacrifice the -child that is safe for the one that is in danger. - -“Go you, Seedney, bring some wood. It iss cold here as north pole.” - -Sydney was gone longer than necessary. He knew that she was gaining -time for the stranger to recover calmness. The boy outside looked in -from the darkness angrily at first, but more kindly as he saw the waif, -little by little, melt under kindness, answer questions, and begin to -eat. And when he finally entered, chilled by the biting cold into a more -generous spirit, it was to hear the end of a compact: the stranger lad -was to remain, and, as soon as he was well enough, he was to help in the -greenhouses. He looked calm, even happy. - -At that instant a soft, clucking noise from the outside arrested them. - -The boy’s face went ashen. He started up. His eyes filled with remorse, -looked mournfully upon them as if he were taking leave of a dying dear -one, and he caught up the freshly cut loaf, and rushed out through the -door. - -“I’ve been the meanest fellow going!” he cried as he ran. From the door -he called back, “Thank you both! Good-by!” and vanished. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -For a moment the two in the kitchen stared at each other, speechless; -but the moment was short. Whatever might have caused the sick boy’s -departure, Mrs. Schmitz was not one to have her hospitality scorned. - -“Never mind what you think,” she sharply reproved Sydney, who had -ventured to voice his distrust of the midnight prowler. “I looked once -in his face. He iss now a good boy. If he goes once again to cold ant -hunger, he----” She broke her speech and called into the night, “Blitzen! -Blitzen!” - -No dog came bounding to her, but a faint whine was heard somewhere -outside. She caught up the rope that had held the stranger, and, heedless -of thin slippers, ran into the wet dark, calling Sydney to follow. - -They found the dog tied to the fence, his jaws strapped together. - -With many endearments of hand and speech, the latter in German, she -unbound him, led him to the kitchen door, and made him smell of rope and -chair. “Seek! seek! Find him! Hold! him!” she commanded. - -The dog sniffed doubtfully a minute, growled, and with a short bark, set -off through the gate and down the street. - -“You also, Seedney! Run! Catch up mit Blitzen. He’ll find that boy, ant -you bring him back. No matter what he says, bring him.” - -The run was short and led scarcely a block away to a vacant lot, where -Sydney found the other boy prone on his face in a thicket of young -sallows and wild blackberry. - -Evidently stunned from a fall, he was mumbling incoherently and Blitzen -was nosing him doubtfully. Even the dog had his scruples about attacking -a fallen enemy. Sydney turned the lad over, trying to learn what had -happened, and was debating the next thing to do when Mrs. Schmitz puffed -into the zone of excitement. - -“Ach! Here he iss! Hooray, Blitzen! Good Blitzen!” She gave the dog a -caress that took the drooping doubt from his tail and set it high over -his back, a waving plume of satisfaction. - -They soon had the stranger on his feet and back in the kitchen. He seemed -willing to go, and quite calm but reticent, evidently perplexed as to -Mrs. Schmitz’s motive in compelling his return. - -She did not hurry him, but busied herself about the room; gave the dog -some food, and piled the dishes together, Sydney helping. Presently she -turned to the boy, decision in her face. “You come now mit me up stairs -ant have one bath ant go to bed. To-morrow you shall talk mit me.” - -He stood suddenly erect. “No, tonight--now I shall tell you what--what -you must know before you keep me in your home another hour. Before this -I have robbed a few ice boxes--taken things to eat. But this time I came -to get money, jewels, anything I could find that could be turned into -money. I had the dope, too.” - -“Dope?” she questioned as he hesitated. - -“Yes. I was going to put you to sleep, so that I could have time to--to -go over the house. You see I’m green at the work, and Jim--my pal--said -that was the only way I could pull off the stunt.” - -“Ach! So? Two of you?” - -“Yes. He is an old hand.” - -“Why did he send you? Why comes he not himself?” - -“He said the police were on to him. If I was caught I could get off easy -because it was my first offense and I am young. Besides it isn’t safe for -the one that--that steals the goods to try to raise money on them.” - -“So?” It is impossible to describe in words the changes the German woman -could ring on that one little word. It could mean doubt, incredulity, -surprise, joy, sorrow, pity, trust, love, and more. - -This time it meant scorn. “So? You take all the risk. You give him the -goods, ant he gets the money! It iss one fine scheme! When did you fall -in his trap?” - -“Today--yesterday, I mean,” he glanced at the clock that marked the hour -of three, “when I was hunting work, hungrier all the time, I got angry. -I said if a man wants work and can’t get it, at least he ought not to -starve. Going to jail would save him from that.” - -“I’ll give you better to eat than any chails,” Mrs. Schmitz broke in with -a laugh. - -Sydney saw the ghost of an answering smile on the lad’s face, and knew -that was what she wished. - -“When I went back to--to the place down by the water front where he hides -in the daytime, he made this proposition that--that I tried to carry -out--and failed.” - -“But why you choose my place? I’m not rich.” - -“A man paid you fifty dollars last evening, there in the greenhouse, -didn’t he?” She nodded. “I was there, saw it, and hurried off to tell -him. We came back in time to look through your dining-room windows and -see you at dinner. Gee! It looked good.” He hesitated a breath, and -indicating Sydney, went on. “He was feeding the dog things I could have -fought for.” - -“Seedney, no more shall you feed Blitzen at the table.” - -“Something like frenzy came to me then, and I said, ‘I’ll do it! I will -have some of that dinner!’” - -For a time the kitchen was absolutely still. Then Mrs. Schmitz said -abruptly, “Still you tell me not why you run out mit mine bread.” - -The boy started up. “Don’t you see? He was hungry too. There I was -eating a splendid meal in your kitchen and he was out in the cold. I had -forgotten him, a pal that had helped me as long as he had a cent. The -noise--our signal--recalled me, made me ashamed, and I--I did--what you -saw.” - -“But how came you down, hurt, lying mit the scratching vines?” - -“He--he was mad. He said I had queered the whole game, and he was through -with me. But he would put me to sleep first so I couldn’t tell which way -he went.” - -Mrs. Schmitz rose. “It iss enough. You come mit me. One good hot bath -mit plenty of soap shall wash away the thief, outsides and insides. You -sleep one night in my house; to-morrow we talk.” She walked across to the -boiler and touched it. “It iss hot. Come!” - -Blitzen started up and licked her hand, at which she cast a quick look of -distrust at the boy. “Did you tie up mine dog?” - -“No. Jim did.” - -“Ach! So? He iss a goot dog. Come.” Her face beamed with good feeling as -she led the boy off to minister to him as his own mother might have done. - -Sydney returned to his room to sleep out the remainder of the night; but -sleep did not come quickly. The last thing he heard was Mrs. Schmitz’s -cheery “Sleep goot” at the door of the best chamber. And with that up -leaped again in Sydney’s heart the demon, jealousy. - -The best chamber! There were two others untenanted. In all the months -since his coming he had not once questioned the generosity of his hostess -because he had the most meanly furnished chamber in the house. Indeed -he knew very little of the great rambling structure that had grown like -the chambered nautilus, by larger and ever larger additions. It was just -as Mrs. Schmitz had bought it. Glimpses through open doors revealed -nothing to Sydney’s untrained eyes beyond a succession of beds, rugs or -carpets, and chairs. But he did know that the large room over the living -room opened upon a spacious, wisteria-hung porch and was called the best -chamber; and he resented its possession by the thief. - -It was after nine when he opened his eyes on a brilliant morning, the -winter sun streaming into the room with the warmth of May. He hopped out -and dressed hastily, whistling gayly, his yellow humor quite forgotten -till Mrs. Schmitz appeared asking for clean underwear and other articles -for the new comer. - -“We will give him the best we have, Seedney, till he iss well. Seek -people don’t like rags nor dirt.” - -Silently and not very readily he selected from his own ample if not -elegant wardrobe the pieces she asked. Perhaps it was not strange that he -was ungracious. He had fought for his crust and disputed the wall side -of a warm grating with others in as desperate case as himself; and that -does not breed readiness to welcome newcomers of doubtful character. - -Yet Sydney himself was puzzled by this emotion. He had never grudged -things before. He had usually been ready to share the crust he fought -for. Why could he not feel kinder to this boy, Max? Thoroughly ashamed, -he determined to discipline himself. - -At the late breakfast the boy told more of himself, yet nothing that -revealed his past; and his hostess did not ask it, but pressed the good -food on him, as pleased to see him eat as if he had been her own son. - -“Already are you better!” she exclaimed, delighted, as they rose from the -table. “Not once have you coughed.” - -“I’d be ill-bred to disturb such a breakfast with coughing.” He made a -little bow and stepped back for her to pass. - -Sydney could see that the speech, the bow, everything Max did with such -an air of elegance, was quite natural, quite unconsciously done. And in -the parlor where every Sunday morning after breakfast Mrs. Schmitz and -Sydney sang together, the new boy proved by every word and movement that -he had been born to a refinement that Sydney believed beyond his own -greatest effort to acquire. - -Here as all over the house the furniture was incongruous, though, -differing from that in Sydney’s room, it was expensive and modern. But -three things stood for culture; the grand piano, a violin in its case, -and a mahogany music cabinet filled with music. - -“You can sing?” she questioned; “or play the violin?” she added, seeing -his glance fixed upon it. - -“I haven’t much of a voice, but I used to play a little.” - -She crossed the room to take the instrument from its case, but stood -motionless for a moment, her back to the boys, her hands hanging limp. -When at last she did bring it to view, her hands were trembling. Each -touch was a caress; and when she adjusted the bow and placed the violin -in position to tune, Sydney heard her sigh. - -But when she handed it to Max her face was serene and her voice steady. -“Try it. Mine father’s it was; I have many years ago played the piano for -him. When he died they sent it to me mit much music ant mine fine dresses -I wore in Germany.” - -Max took the violin with a reverence that pleased her, and tried the -strings with delicate, accustomed fingers. “It is a fine one, a Cremona!” -he added with an excitement Sydney saw no reason for; he didn’t know one -fiddle from another. - -But Mrs. Schmitz did. She knew much about music, instruments, and -composers. And here was some one else who could speak the same language, -and with his instrument too, as Sydney could see by the way he tuned it -and played little snatches of this or that, while she nodded and beamed. - -“Ach, goot! Your hant ant head ant heart sind all one mit music!” - -From under the shelf of the cabinet she drew a pile of violin music and -began to run it over rapidly, pronouncing the foreign names with no -more ease than Max, who caught a passage from one, or hummed a snatch -from another; and presently they were speaking in German, both excited, -gesticulating, happy. - -Sydney was as much out of it as if the language were Hindoo. In school he -had done well. Through the interest of Mr. Streeter, a young man recently -come into a fortune, who devoted it and his time to assisting boys who -were otherwise on the way to being “down and out,” and through the -kindness of Mrs. Schmitz, Sydney had been able to press on in his grades. -Now at the beginning of the winter semester he stood with Billy Bennett, -“Sis” Jones, Queen Bess, and all the others who made his world, seniors -in the “Fifth Avenue High,” side by side, respected and liked. - -But suddenly Sydney realized in the presence of this stranger, so -sinisterly introduced into that quiet life, that there was a great area -of culture for which no public school can issue diplomas. As a child -speaks its native tongue nor knows when he learns it, so Max spoke the -language of refined society, of an early home environment that comes only -from generations of good breeding and comfortable income. - -Sydney’s eyes were opened in another quarter. He had always found -kindness and understanding in Mrs. Schmitz, and that exquisite neatness -that is the mark of a gentlewoman; but he had not seen behind her -eccentricities. It had never occurred to him that the industrious woman -who spent her days with pots and flowers had once lived differently. -Though her fingers had brought marvelous music from the ivory keys, he -had not seen far beyond the split nails--marks of her toil. - -Now he saw! And he suddenly knew she had met a kindred spirit. - -“Come, Seedney,” she called half an hour later; “we’ll sing now our -songs.” - -If she had not gone and taken his hand he would not have stirred, so -foreign to them did he feel. But she must have divined that, for she -pulled him forward, and not without pride in her tone, said, “This iss -mine only pupil. Some day he will make me very proud.” - -They sang a number of simple songs, ending with some hymns, Max adding -a rather thin voice while he played the air, or again, some delicate -obligato. - -“You have a splendid voice,” he said heartily to Sydney when Mrs. Schmitz -finally left them together. “Four or five years’ work would put you on -the stage--if you care for that.” - -“I never thought of it. Something else would fit me better, I guess.” - -“Gee! She’s great, isn’t she?” Max said under his breath, nodding toward -the door where Mrs. Schmitz had disappeared. “How is it she is just -drudging--cooking, washing dishes? She should never use her hands but to -play.” - -Sydney looked again at the stranger. Some vague notion he, too, had -had in regard to Mrs. Schmitz’s past, when she must have been taught -by masters and spent long hours at the piano; but it never occurred to -him that she was out of place in a new city, “running” a greenhouse and -working twice as many hours as her men did. But this boy who had crept in -at her pantry window to steal from her, through one half hour’s music, -understood her better than Sydney in half a year’s sojourn in her house. -The discovery gave him a feeling of inadequacy, as if he had been unkind -to her, had failed in fealty to her. - -Max toyed with the violin a little longer; looked over the music, now -and then drawing a breath of sweetness from the strings, and speaking a -running accompaniment all the while, so easy in word and movement, so -fluent, that each moment he became more and more an enigma to the other. - -Sydney found himself telling freely the little he knew of Mrs. Schmitz, -her kindness to him, her generosity, her many eccentricities, one of -which was her aversion to girls. “She can’t bear even to hear about them.” - -“Did she ever have a daughter? And where’s her husband?” - -“She’s lost both.” - -Before Max could reply he was shaken with a paroxysm of coughing, the -severest of the morning, yet light compared with those of the night -before, so much had warmth and food done toward banishing the spectre, -tuberculosis. - -“Come upstairs with me while I do up my room. I’ll do yours too this -morning. After that we’ll get out in the sun; that’s the best medicine -you can have.” - -“Do--do up your room? Do you make beds?” - -“Why not? Do you think I’d let her?” - -“No--no, of course not. But why doesn’t she have a maid?” - -“She has a woman to wash and clean two or three times a week.” - -“She--she does all the rest? And takes boys to board?” - -“Yes.” Sydney was having his eyes still more opened. “The work in this -house is nothing; she spends most of her time in the nursery.” - -Max followed his leader upstairs, asking no more questions, but watching -Sydney, astonished, as he went deftly through the morning work. Once -or twice Max moved a chair, or tried to help with a blanket, but his -awkwardness was so apparent that he laughed at himself. - -“How did you learn?” - -“She taught me.” - -“But this isn’t boys’ work any more than washing dishes.” - -“Why not? Doesn’t a boy sleep in a bed and eat his food from dishes? Why -shouldn’t he do such work if it’s to save some one better than he is? -Mrs. Schmitz for instance?” - -“That’s right. But doesn’t it make you feel a little--sissylike?” - -“The manliest chap I know, Billy To-morrow--Billy Bennett--isn’t ashamed -to do any sort of work to save his mother and sisters. They used to be -poorer than they are now.” - -Max said nothing for a time. Then he broke out with, “How did you come to -this snug berth anyhow?” - -Sydney told him that Mr. Streeter had seen Mrs. Schmitz’s advertisement -of a good home for a boy who would be steady, do a little light work, and -be company for her at night. “She wasn’t afraid, never was; but she told -Mr. Streeter she wanted some one to look at across the table when she -ate.” - -Max went to the window and looked out a moment, then he whirled and -strode back to Sydney. “Here! Show me how you do everything! I will -learn--beat you to it pretty soon--if I can.” He laughed almost joyously -and Sydney felt only sincerity in it. “I’m going to accept her offer of -a home till I get over this cough; but it shall not be for nothing. If I -can’t render service for value received, I’ll--” His face darkened to a -thought Sydney saw he had entertained before. “I’ll put this mug where it -won’t need feeding.” - -“Shut up! You’re no quitter. Put a few of her good dinners into you, and -you’ll be ready to buck any game coming.” - -“I believe you. But it won’t be her dinners alone; it’s herself. She -radiates something good besides food.” - -Sydney clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you like her. I am not -able to speak of her as you do, but I--I think she’s the best ever.” He -turned away, ashamed that he could not find words to say what he wished. -He seemed the more dumb because of Max’s fluency. - -“Is this the way you do the trick, Mr. Blanket-slinger?” Max asked, -catching up a sheet and flapping it wide but crookedly over the mattress. - -“No. It’s wrong side up and end to.” - -“How do you tell that?” - -Sydney showed him the right side of the hem that came uppermost, and the -wide hem designating the upper end of the sheet. - -Max thanked him and carefully flung the other sheet to place. - -“That goes wrong side up. Turn it over.” - -“For the love of Inverarity, why?” - -“Right sides go together.” - -“Why? Does one side of a sheet feel any different from another?” - -“It does to her. Anyway there’s a reason, it’s the right way. I never -asked her why.” - -“I will then. I want to know all about it.” - -They finished up the two rooms and Max proposed to “do” Mrs. Schmitz’s as -well. - -“No. Here’s where we stop. I don’t go into her room any more than if it -was in another house.” - -Max stared at him a second and nodded comprehendingly, when they went -down and out into the sunshine. - -“How strange to see the grass green and the trees budding in January.” - -“Strange? Then you come from the East. It seems queer to me not to see -flowers everywhere; and it’s awfully cold up here.” - -“Is it so warm in California?” - -“In spots. You can find all the climates there. I never stepped on snow -till I came here, to the City of Green Hills; and there’s very little -here.” - -They walked up and down the narrow paths in the nursery, examining the -sprouting cuttings growing in close rows, and the long heaped rows of -earth where the bulbs would soon send forth their green shoots, Sydney -freely giving of his small fund of information. - -Suddenly from the farther end where the nursery abutted against a vacant -block well hidden under a thick young forest growth, a voice hailed them, -and a sinister face peered from behind a fir tree. - -“Come with me, or I’ll make it hot for all that outfit you’re with, -you--” He ended with unprintable oaths. - -“That’s he! I must go! If I don’t he’ll hurt her--rob--or burn!” Max gave -Sydney a look of utter disappointment and started off. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Before Max could go more than a few steps Sydney pulled him about. “What? -Going without saying good-by to her? Even I have more manners than that.” - -“But she won’t let me go if I tell her. I--you must----” - -“No matter. You come with me.” Sydney turned, and calling to the man -who had withdrawn behind the leafy screen, “He’ll see you later,” drew -Max, resisting, along with him. It was not unpleasant to Sydney to feel -his superior strength; to know this one advantage over the boy who -unconsciously proved himself superior in so many ways. - -They went in and told Mrs. Schmitz. - -“You be not afraid. Stay by me. If he comes we are three--” - -“No, no! It is you I care for. He may set fire--” - -“Shoo out of this! You do what I tell you. I have here no leetle boys not -minding me. In there iss books; go to ’em. After dinner we’ll talk.” - -She intended no slang as they knew; and a rich odor came from the Sunday -dinner already on the way. Memories of cold and hunger and dreary -wanderings decided Max. “Thank you,” he said, and went into the sitting -room. “To-night I shall not sleep but watch.” - -“And I with you,” Sydney endorsed earnestly, throwing a glance that was -fonder than he knew in the direction of her who was in both their minds. - -In the quiet afternoon Mrs. Schmitz tried to banish Max’s fear of the -skulking prowler. “I will tell the police of him.” - -“No, no! Please don’t. He will make them take me too.” - -“Yes, that also may come true. We will let the policeman be.” - -“Yet you still have the money in the house.” - -“Also I am not afraid.” - -“But I am for you.” - -“Forget me. Yourself, not him, you must consider.” - -“Myself?” Max was mystified. - -“Yes. Suppose you steal from me fifty--even five dollars, or one. It iss -only money. I do not cry. I do not starve, have shame. But you?” - -“I go to jail,” he said after her significant pause, his eyes downcast. - -“You do worse. You steal from yourself. You steal not money but much -more, your innocence. With fifty or five dollars you have yourself a new -name bought--thief! No money buys that word back. It makes one long, -bloody cut into your soul. Before it gets well you have a very long -time in the hospital of work--if you have the good luck to find that -hospital. Before you have paid back to yourself that fifty dollars worth -of self-respecting, you have great shame and sorrow mit yourself.” - -Max did not speak, and she busied herself in making orderly the -book-littered table. - -“When you steal to eat I call you not a thief; hungry creatures are -crazy. Ant I judge not anybody. Yet I think so long as you are afraid of -thiefs you have still some robbing in your heart. What you think?” - -Max fidgeted in his chair, rose, walked to the window, and looked out -into the sunshine for a second, then he turned back to her, looking -fearlessly in her eyes. “Last night I was a thief! But today--now--I am -not. The wound is there, in my soul certainly; and I’ll carry the scar -always, I know that. But there’ll never be another.” - -She caught his hand in both her own and her smile was good to see. “Goot! -I belief you. Have no more fear. By me you stay, get well, go to school -mebbe. _Nicht wahr?_” - -“If I stayed at home I would have graduated from the high school in four -months. I’d like to go again. But first I must earn some money.” - -“You need no money mit me. Before you are strong to work you can study.” - -“You are so good to me. Yet I need some money right away. I--” - -“Iss it much? I can lend you some.” - -“No, no! I must not borrow it; I must earn it. Is there no light work in -your nursery I could do at once?” - -She smiled. “All people look for light work. That iss--skilled work. Mine -leetle plants, like tender child, must be very gently touched, ant mit -love. If you like I’ll teach you.” - -“Thank you. But if you have the trouble of teaching me it will be some -time before I shall be worth wages. I’ll think about it.” He turned away -still perplexed, knowing she saw it. - -But whatever she thought, she encouraged him cordially. “We’ll talk no -more of this ever, till you yourself ask me. Now you have one thing to -do, make friends mit health. Then I think iss time to make money.” - -He thanked her again and was silent for a time, appearing to read; but -when he and Sydney were alone Max divulged his immediate need for money. -“I’ve got to pay something I owe--just got to.” - -Sydney hesitated, trying to see with the other boy’s eyes. “I know how -you feel. All the time I was rustling papers--on my uppers most of the -time--I had to keep thinking of my father’s rule of life, ‘No Bremmer -ever takes something for nothing.’” - -“I should say that was a mighty good rule.” - -“Yes, but a mighty hard one sometimes. If it hadn’t been for that I guess -I’d have gone bad more’n I did. Anyway I’ve slept hungry many a night -because of it.” - -“Well, I’ve taken something for nothing; and that’s what I want to wipe -out of my life.” - -“Gee! I bet Pop Streeter can do the trick for you. Good old Pop.” - -Max asked about Mr. Streeter, and Sydney explained. “He’s to the good on -every count; and I have a hunch he can do something for you. Ever play in -public?” - -“No; only for my--for friends.” - -“Well, there’s a new moving-picture-show house going up near the Fifth -Avenue High. I know the man that’s building it; he owns another show down -the street, the best shows in town he has,--even the teachers approve -them, so you can see they’re O. K. Well, the way you pet those fiddle -strings I bet you can play for him.” - -“Thank you for so much confidence in my ability.” There was a faint hint -of patronage in his tone. - -“No confidence in you,” Sydney returned a little sharply. “My judgment’s -worth nothing; but Mrs. Schmitz knows good music, and when she praises a -musical guy he has to have the stuff in him; I’ve lived here long enough -to learn that.” - -“How soon will the house be finished?” - -“The opening is advertised for a week from next Friday. Mr. Fox wants -a special program of music. You come with me to see Mr. Streeter -to-morrow--I’ll make the appointment right now.” He hurried to the -telephone without waiting to learn Max’s wishes in the matter, but Mr. -Streeter was not in. - -Max showed relief. He had not Sydney’s initiative, born from the life of -the street, where advantage must be seized the instant it appears; though -Max could think and act quick under great stress. - -Sydney, undiscouraged by several failures, reached Mr. Streeter late at -night and made an engagement for Max for the next evening. - -Max, advised by Mrs. Schmitz, took the violin. What occurred during that -interview Max never divulged. Max resented a little Mr. Streeter’s keen -questions, though later he realized that they meant only justice to Mrs. -Schmitz, whose kind heart sometimes overruled her judgment. - -Max knew his reticence in regard to his family prejudiced Mr. Streeter -against him, but held to his course; and in spite of this was able to -leave a fairly favorable impression. This was increased during an evening -at Mrs. Schmitz’s home, when the two musicians won him with their art; -and Max’s bearing then counted still more in his favor. - -Each passing day left visible improvement in his health. His cough -decreased, his cheeks filled, his color was better, and his step was no -longer languid or nervously rapid. Every apparent symptom of tuberculosis -that might have frightened the ignorant was vanishing, and on its heels -came a courage to meet life that Max had almost lost. - -When they read of the apprehension and conviction for a term of years of -a thief that Max recognized as the “pal” that had sworn vengeance, the -lines of unboyish care left his face, and he began to whistle at his work. - -Sydney did not know how deep an impression his simple motto, “Never take -something for nothing,” had made upon Max, who had thought the opposite, -“Take all you can get and give as little as possible,” was the law of -business from day laborers to railroad wreckers. - -He did not know that business is built upon an idea, confidence; that -the commercial life of the nation would have failed, and surely would -fail, were not the majority of men honest, and willing to let the “other -fellow” also make something. - -Mrs. Schmitz read what was passing in his mind and encouraged his -attempts at helpfulness. At first he did not see that his efforts were -awkward; her kindness disguised that. By the time he was skilled enough -to realize his failures he was no longer sensitive about them. When in -his experiments in cookery he salted the soup from the sugar jar, he -laughed with the others and ate his own plateful to the last bit. - -Mr. Streeter’s good words and Max’s own skill easily won him a place on -the program for the opening night of the theater. And he did so well that -the manager signed a contract for two weeks, which resulted in more money -than he had seen for many months. Some of it he tried to pay to Mrs. -Schmitz, but she refused it. - -“Just a little, won’t you? Make me feel less a beggar?” he coaxed. - -“First you pay what--what you say you must--” She hesitated. - -“There’s more than enough--to do--what I must before I can go to school, -or even work for you.” - -Mrs. Schmitz showed no curiosity concerning this thing that was shadowing -him, but instead gave him trust and encouragement which he felt in all -she said or did. When he was able to set at his task he knew he would -never have had the courage but for her. - -This took courage for it was nothing less than an attempt to pay for -stolen food. It was a rather quixotic scheme perhaps; but the thought was -born of his serious talk with Mrs. Schmitz. He believed he could never -wipe out the stain of the name of thief, till he had made restitution. - -He knew well the places where ice boxes on open porches had tempted -him; there were three. He planned to go boldly to the front door and -ask for the gentleman of the house. Already he had learned the names of -the householders; learned the dinner hour at each place. He would go -immediately after that, before anyone would be leaving or arriving. - -He had two reasons for selecting this hour, the man would be at leisure, -and it would be dark. Max would not be plainly seen. He hoped that -the hall lights would be dim also. It would be so much harder to go in -daylight and thus brand himself in the eyes of those who otherwise would -never know he robbed them. But sending money in a letter seemed cowardly. -Now that his conscience was roused it compelled him to the extreme course. - -At the two first places all went as he had planned. At the summons of the -maid the man came to the door, showed surprise at the strange request, -refused at first to accept pay, but finally did so, compelled by Max’s -perseverance. - -The third night it was different. A stripling, evidently the spoiled son -of the household, insisted on knowing the business that demanded his -father’s attention. - -“It’s private.” - -“Nothing private from me. Come in and spit it out. I’ll do just as well -as the pater; he’s resting now.” - -“Then I’ll come another night,” Max said, and was turning away, when a -heavy voice called to them. - -“What’s wanted there; don’t keep that door open. Ask him in.” - -“All right, dad. You hear?” the supercilious youth said to Max. “You’ll -have to come in.” - -And Max, not knowing what else to do, entered the spacious hall, hat in -hand, hoping if he kept still the man would appear. - -He did not. Instead he called again: “Bring your friend into the library, -Walter.” - -There was nothing else but to obey. Through the doorway as they -approached Max saw a child start up from a low seat beside her father and -come toward the two boys, a beautiful little girl of six or seven. - -“Come with me, kitten,” the young man said, a tenderness in his tone that -surprised Max. “Dad has business on hand, Dottie.” - -She ran to him catching his hand in both of her own, and danced beside -him as he slowly crossed the room, which was small but richly furnished -and lined with well-filled book cases. - -A fire crackled cheerily, and a large man, with slippered feet to the -blaze, lounged in a deep easy-chair. - -He looked up interrogatively, waiting for Max to speak. The boy did not -know this for an insolent trick of “cute” business. Ensconced in his own -lair, this moment of inhospitable silence on the part of the magnate -was in itself an accusation, a test of strength, with a handicap on the -newcomer. - -The boy felt keenly this slap on the face. A quick glance at the visibly -inquisitive youth, however, restored Max a trifle, for he felt quite his -equal. Yet he had to summon all his “spunk” to open his dry lips and -speak. - -“I have a little business with you, Mr. Buckman; may I speak to you -alone?” - -“Walter, go and tell your mother to be ready in ten minutes, or we’ll be -late. Now what is it, young man?” he questioned a little impatiently as -the others left the room. - -Max told his story; told it under the pitiless glare of many lights; told -it haltingly, shamefacedly; and he was angry at himself for doing so -badly. Why could he not speak up clearly, fearlessly, as he had spoken -before? - -The man looked him over silently. “So you’re a thief, are you?” he said -scornfully. “A fool to boot, I should say. Why in thunder did you blurt -it out? Why didn’t you keep quiet, and if you must pay conscience money, -send it through the mail?” - -“Because I _was_ a thief! I thought then I’d rather steal than starve. -But a kind woman made me ashamed of that. It is not so much to pay -you, sir, what you never could have collected, as to regain my own -self-respect that I did not send the money, but came myself to pay it.” - -The man looked at him keenly, plainly interested now, but was still -silent; and Max felt himself probed to his last thought. “That took a -good deal of courage,” the man said at length. “How much do you think you -owe me?” - -“You must be the judge of that.” He told what food he took. - -“How do I know that is all?” - -Max flushed. This grilling burned his soul. “You could ask your cook. It -happened three weeks ago last Thursday night.” - -The man smiled. “I guess you’re straight. What do you think the stuff is -worth?” - -Max’s temper was up. Depressed at first, he was angry now, and answered -the man a trifle defiantly. “In business the man who pays does not set -the price, but the man who sells. In this case I am at your mercy. You -can have me apprehended on my own confession, and whatever I say now -will prejudice you against me. The food I took measured by the value of -the peace of mind I shall have when I know it is paid for, is worth more -money than I shall be able to earn in many years. Measured by its cost -to you I have no means of knowing its value because I only saw a little -of it.” - -“How is that?” - -“I snatched all I could carry, gave most of it to one hungrier than I, -and ran as fast and as far as I could.” - -“Then you were really hungry? You did not rob for fun, or hoping to find -more valuable stuff?” - -“Fun! I cannot conceive of anyone doing that.” - -The man was considering. “Hungry! As a boy I don’t remember when I wasn’t -hungry. But I always had three square meals with ‘pieces’ besides. How -long had you gone without eating?” - -“Twenty-four hours.” - -“Why didn’t you get work?” - -“Have you any work I could do?” Max inquired eagerly. - -Taken unawares the man fell into the trap. “No. Business is slack and I -am pushed to keep my men busy as it is. Even had to discharge some.” - -“That’s your answer, sir. I have hunted work for two months.” - -“Got any now?” - -“Yes; and a prospect of its being permanent. The lady I told you of will -teach me the nursery business if I’m not too stupid to learn; but she -insists that I shall go to school at the same time.” - -“Does she know--of what you are doing now?” - -“No, sir. When I go home--” Suddenly something swelled in his throat and -for a second he could not go on. Home! It was a home; and Mrs. Schmitz, -more than a benefactress, gave him the affection and understanding -of a mother. “She knows I am--that I have stolen things,” he went on -haltingly; “but she trusts me; and I shall tell her that I have--have -made good--if you’ll let me. Won’t you please give me the chance, sir?” - -“By George, I will! You’ve got the stuff for a real man in you. Suppose -we call it square at a dollar?” - -“That’s not enough.” - -“It is if you gave away most of the food. I won’t take pay for what the -other fellow ate.” - -Max saw that it was best to yield though he was not easy as to the sum; -but he handed over the dollar and turned to go. The man rose and went to -the door with him, shaking hands cordially. - -“You’ve done a plucky thing, young man; and before you are in the way of -having to steal again for lack of work, come to me at my office.” - -He gave street and number as he walked down the hall to open the outer -door, and probably did not hear, as Max did, a faint footstep and a -rustling of the portieres as they passed along. - -All the way home Max speculated on that furtive noise; but quite forgot -it in the joy of the sense of freedom that came when he met Sydney and -Mrs. Schmitz, and knew he had the right to look them fairly in the eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -That furtive, rustling noise in Mr. Buckman’s dimly lighted hall haunted -Max for days, filling him with a vague uneasiness he called foolish, but -could not forget. Yet after a time youth and returning health relegated -the memory to some niche in the mind’s storehouse; and life became full -of interest and wholesome occupation, driving out apprehension. - -A little more than a week after his engagement at the “show house” had -terminated, and he had made the senior class at the “Fifth Avenue High,” -Billy Bennett’s ringing voice came over the wire. - -“Is Mumps there?” it asked, and Sydney heard it across the room. - -“Tell your friend a better name to call you; that is a sick one. I smell -the drug store now!” Mrs. Schmitz laughed as she put down the receiver -and started out. - -“Billy To-morrow can call me any old name; he’s all right!” Sydney -shouted after her; and into the telephone he cried, “Hello, Billy -To-morrow! What’s up today?” - -“The Queen says you’ve turned her down. She’s all fussed up because you -refuse to come to her party. She can’t think what she’s done to disquiet -you.” - -The Queen, otherwise Bess Carter! The one girl of all girls for Sydney. -Yet he could never hold up his head when she spoke to him; and if he saw -her coming he always edged away. - -“She’s done nothing but all right, Billy. She’s always to the good; but -I--I--oh, hang it! You know, Billy, I’m no girl’s guy.” - -“Rats! You don’t have to be a girl’s guy to go to her party. Haven’t we -all played together as kids? Roughed it together at camp, and worked -together at the school rallies? It’s just a chin-fest along the same old -lines with a little music and dancing thrown in; a lot rather. And she -wants the quartette.” - -“Gee!” Sydney said no more, but his inflection carried assent. - -“All right. I thought you’d see it that way.” - -“I haven’t said I’d go,” Sydney broke in. - -“Oh, yes, you have. You’re not the laddie to spoil the Queen’s evening by -breaking up the quartette, the feature she’s most counting on, she says.” - -“If I go will you help me to ask a question of Bess?” - -“Sure, what is it?” - -“I’ll tell you when I see you.” - -Billy did not misjudge his friend, though he could have no conception of -the agony of bashfulness Sydney endured at merely the thought of meeting -a lot of girls in their evening frocks. - -“You know I’ve no glad rags for evening, Billy.” - -“No matter. You have good enough. None of us are going in for opera hats -and patent leathers; that is, only the Fussers. Will you come to dinner -with me tonight and stay for rehearsal?” - -“All right. Thank you. Say, Billy! Hello, Billy!” - -“Hi, there! Thought you had finished,” Billy returned after a slight -wait. “Hello!” he called again as Sydney did not answer. - -In that hesitant moment Sydney decided to abandon his intention of -asking an invitation for Max. With his airy, sophisticated manner, his -good looks, his playing, Max would be sure to win the heart of every one -present. And then his cough--really he was not well enough. - -Thus jealousy argued; but in that flashing instant between Billy’s first -and second “Hello,” Sydney caught himself up; called himself a selfish, -“pin-minded brute!” - -“Jealous! That’s what I am. Because I’m short and thick instead of -slender and elegant as Max is; have mud-colored hair and no-colored eyes -instead of a face clear and dark, with eyes that can talk without help -from lips or tongue, as his can, I’ll cut him out of a good time! Mumps, -you’re a last season’s egg!” - -“What’s that you’re rumbling. Is your tongue weak today?” - -“Nothing, Billy. I was giving myself a dose of mental ipecac, had -something N. G. in my system, but it’s out now.” - -“Well, in your state of good health what’s next?” - -“We’ve got a--I mean I’ve got a friend here, you met him, Max Ball. He’s -a violinist, a regular high C, Mrs. Schmitz says, a good looker and -actor. May I bring him along?” - -There was a word in reply, a short wait, and Billy’s voice came again. -“It’s all right. Marms says bring him along, and sister says tell him to -bring his violin.” - -Max received his invitation in silence; a silence that piqued Sydney. “If -you don’t care to meet my friends, say so. I’ll tell Billy to count your -plate off,” he said roughly. - -“Don’t take it that way. I appreciate the courtesy, believe me. -Yet--ought I to accept? Suppose they knew--all about me, would they ask -me just the same? Is it fair to them for you to take me?” - -“Gee! I never thought about that,” Sydney mused, glancing at Max with new -respect. - -“Does Mrs. Schmitz know your friends?” - -“Yes. She thinks they’re fine folks.” - -“Then we’ll ask her.” - -Questioned, she too, thought a moment before replying, her eyes fixed on -the doubting one. “Max,” she began seriously, “I have belief in you. I -feel sure you will make goot. Sydney shall tell his friends that you are -one dear friend of me. I stand for you.” - -Max gazed steadily back at her a second, then laid his hand on hers. -“Thank you. I shall not shame you.” The words were simple but Sydney felt -the earnestness in them; saw the moisture in the dark eyes, and turned -aside to hide his own. He, too, was won, and promised himself to believe -in Max always. - -This was Max’s introduction to the delightful home where Billy Bennett -and his mother lived with his married sister Edith and her husband, Mr. -Wright. - -Through the dinner, which was perfectly served, Sydney watched Max with -an envy he despised but could not conquer. Every word and move of the -stranger lad proved that he had found his own. The way he spoke to the -ladies, the confident, unconscious but correct use of the silver, a -matter that made Sydney turn red with anxiety; Max’s low and different -yet kind tone to the maid; his easy yet modest attitude toward Mr. -Wright--everything was just right, Sydney acknowledged to himself. - -How did he come by it? Sydney felt he could not in a thousand years -acquire such a manner; and at the same time it seemed just then the one -thing on earth worth having. Poor Sydney did not know that many boys, -even some reared in comfortable homes, are harassed in their years of -development by a similar diffidence. He thought it was caused entirely by -his lack of training. - -He could see that Max won them all, especially Mr. Wright, with whom he -talked intelligently on current topics; and Mrs. Wright when they touched -upon music, as well as Billy’s mother when she asked of Max’s own, and -he replied that she was dead. Sydney could remember his own mother only -dimly. He had not such a passionate love for her as he detected in Max’s -low reply that was in no different tone from his other words; yet its -indefinable intensity told volumes about his heart feeling. - -After dinner Billy’s sister carried Max off to the piano and they had -what Billy called an orgy of music, neither paying much attention to the -rest in the room. - -Mr. Wright went to his den, and Mrs. Bennett disappeared, leaving Sydney -alone with Billy. They settled among the cushions on a window seat where -twinkling lights on the Sound below, as well as sharp little whistles, -revealed the coming and going of many small steamers, part of the -Mosquito Fleet that connects a thousand miles of Sound shore with the -metropolis, the City of Green Hills. - -The moon sent a silver track across the dark water, and the distant, -fir-fringed shores outlined dimly against the starlit west seemed the -shadowy ramparts of fairyland. - -Probably Billy appreciated the scene more deeply than Sydney, yet he saw -it often, and consequently was the first to speak. - -“What’s the trick you want me to turn for you with Bess?” - -At the telephone asking this favor from Billy had seemed a little thing; -now that the moment had come it was all but impossible. Yet he had -delayed too long. It was nearly a month since the night of Max’s coming, -the night when Sydney had determined to “do something for Ida”; but he -had let the days pass in inaction. This moment he was in for it. - -“It’s about Ida Jones. Do you know her?” - -“Just to bow; she isn’t in any of my classes.” - -“She was in mine last year; when I moved up a grade at the beginning of -this semester I left her back there in the juniors.” - -“What about her? Evidently you have her beaten in the highbrow race.” - -“It wouldn’t have been so if I had been obliged to work all summer as she -did. You know the good old Pop fixed it for me. That’s how I was able to -study in vacation and make a class ahead.” - -“Yes. But return to Miss Jones. And to Bess; what’s the relation?” - -“I wish you’d ask the Queen to invite Ida to her party. It would put her -easy with her class if a senior, and such a senior as Miss Bess Carter, -asked her to a party.” - -Billy laughed. “Is that all? Ask her yourself. You carry good weight with -her.” - -“Billy! Billy To-morrow! I’ll never turn the trick in the world! You know -I’m tongue-tied when a girl shows up.” - -“Surely not so in the case of Miss Jones,” Billy chaffed. “How did you -learn her troubles? You must have chinned some with her.” - -“She never told me her troubles. I haven’t spoken ten minutes with her -altogether. But I can see--and hear.” - -“What?” - -“That all the girls nod coldly when she passes; that none of them run up -and make love to her, or--” - -“Make love? Girls? What do you mean?” - -“Don’t you see it all the time? Almost every girl in school is either on -her knees in adoration of some other one, or is herself the adored one.” - -“Mumps! You’re getting classy! Both in language and in the matter -of observation.” Billy clapped his friend on the shoulder in true, -young-mannish fashion, a caress that would have floored one less sturdy. -“What do you hear?” - -“Oh, scraps of conversation spoken between chums, yet to the world in -general. You know how it is with a certain kind of rich girl, she talks -loud, as if she owned the earth and wanted all to know it.” - -“Not all the rich ones though. May Nell Smith is the richest girl in -school, but you can’t call her loud.” - -“Surely not. And there are others of course. Perhaps I should have said -the girl who wishes to be thought rich, or those who haven’t been so very -long.” - -“That’s it. You can spot ’em. Father worth half a million, half a pound -of extra hair. Father worth--by report--twenty thousand, two pounds of -the most startling hair.” - -Sydney took up the comparison. “Father worth many millions and mother -a lady, just her own hair worn--worn--Well, that’s where I fall down. -Billy, how does Miss Smith wear her hair?” - -Billy laughed. “And how does Miss Jones?” - -“Oh, I don’t know. It looks awfully easy. It’s not bandaged like a broken -head, and it’s nicer than all those buns and cart wheels and things. It’s -curly.” - -“How do you know that?” - -“Because often she wears no hat, and the more it rains the curlier it -gets. That’s the way with Max’s.” - -Billy sent a glance to the other visitor. “There’s surely some class to -him.” He stared at Max a moment but came abruptly back to the question. -“Who is Miss Jones’ father?” - -“She has neither father nor mother. She just takes care of herself; works -right along for her board.” - -Billy whistled. “That’s the little joker that turns up the other girls’ -noses.” - -“But why? I work for my board. Everybody knows I was a stowaway on the -San Francisco steamship, or can know it; I never tried to hide it. Did -it make any difference with you fellows? With you or Reg Steele and your -cousin Hec Price, who belong to the best people in the city, and the -richest? No. You took me in the same as you took in Redtop and Sis Jones; -and there’s more class to any of the fellows in your set than to me. -Don’t I know that?” - -“That’s where you’re off the boulevard, old chap. You’re in the class -that has pluck and honesty and the capacity for friendship. That’s a -class by itself. You notice Walter Buckman doesn’t figure large in high -jinks engineered by Bess Carter or May Nell.” - -“But why don’t the girls take in a friendless girl as you fellows took -me?” - -“Oh, I don’t know. Girls are different.” Billy could not answer that -question. It was too large for him. It is too large for most people. We -see a sweet young thing making herself ridiculous over the sufferings of -a pampered cat, who yet will calmly stab to the heart with a cold stare -some struggling girl who wears a last year’s frock and earns the bread -she eats. - -“I give it up,” Billy said after awhile. “But I’ll tell you one thing; -if Miss Jones is O. K. otherwise, working for her board won’t make any -difference to Bess Carter, nor to May Nell.” - -“I know that. It’s why I am so anxious for Bess to invite her. Will you -do it--get Bess to ask her?” - -“Yes. That is, I’ll tell Bess about her, and May Nell too.” - -“Thank you.” - -“Gee! What a lever money is.” - -“Yes, for good or bad.” - -“There’s May Nell Smith. As soon as she grew strong enough to stand the -strain of public school her father put her there because he wanted her to -come in touch with all sorts of children; and see what she can do. She’s -just as sweet as ever, and her nod is law to the girls.” - -“You’d never know she was a rich man’s daughter by the way she dresses, -Ida says.” - -“You’d know she was the daughter of a sensible woman though.” - -Sydney agreed, his heart quite at rest about Ida; and both sat quietly -listening to the music. Neither realized the secrets of the great social -fabric they had grazed, though Sydney continued in thought to follow -the puzzle that provoked his question to Billy; why do girls--young -women--treat each other as they do? - -This led back to the day many months earlier when a couple of squabbling -boys, turning the high school corner, ran against a girl, almost -knocking her over, and sending her books flying on the wet walk. They -were too occupied to notice their rudeness; but Sydney was in time to -prevent her from falling and to restore her books. - -This was Ida Jones. Bashful as Sydney was, her gratitude unlocked his -speech; and walking home with her he learned a little of her loneliness -and struggle for an education. She probably told Sydney more of her life -than she would have told another, because his own life was so similar. -And ever since there had been this bond of sympathy between them, though -they rarely were together. - -Mrs. Wright’s enthusiastic voice recalled Sydney from his reveries. “Mr. -Ball plays! Makes real music! Sydney, you should be glad to live in the -same house with him.” - -Sydney wondered if he was grateful. Again the mean little yellow fiend of -envy stuck up its head, and he had his fight all over. - -“I have persuaded him to play with the quartette; it will be a splendid -addition,” Mrs. Wright continued. - -Billy rose and shook hands with him, boy fashion, for Billy was still a -boy at heart in all he did, yet a very lovable boy. “That’s all to the -good. Welcome to the jolly six--jolly seven it will be, now you have -joined.” - -“You must bring Mrs. Schmitz over to some of the rehearsals. I shall call -on her very soon. Do you think she’d have time for me, Sydney?” - -He was sure of it. - -“And we shall drop the Mister and call you just plain Max, may we?” Billy -questioned. “No one is allowed a handle to his name but her, my sister -here. We have to permit that because she’s married.” Billy nudged his -sister, mischief in his eyes. - -Max bowed gravely. “I shall be honored by your kindness.” - -Billy, a trifle awed by Max’s seriousness, could not know that the -newcomer was feeling the weight of his responsibility; was wondering if -they would accept him so cordially if they knew all. - -The other boys came, Charles Harper called Redtop because of his -“smiling” hair, a fine fellow, well grown and with eyes that looked -straight at his listener; and “Sis” Jones, Cicero really, but “Sis” in -his set since the day he had been caught embroidering a pattern on the -sail of the “Miss Snow,” Hector Price’s sailboat. Young Jones was as old -as any of them and as plucky; but he was slender, blond, not very tall, -and gave the impression of effeminacy. Yet certain ones who knew said -those small hands could grip like iron. - -His voice was the sweet, haunting tenor, while Sydney was second tenor. -Charles sang a deep, rich bass, and Billy second bass. All-round utility -man Billy called himself, since his voice was adaptable, and if his -sister was prevented it was Billy who accompanied on the piano. He was -also librarian, sent out meeting notices, and otherwise, “bossed the -job,” to use his own words. - -The other member was Hugh Price, “Squab,” Billy’s short fat cousin. -He had grown since the happy camping days at Lallula, but it seemed -all laterally. His anxiety to gain height was well known, and the most -acceptable compliment one could pay him was to say, “You’re taller.” He -played the flute--played it well. - -All welcomed Max cordially, and still more enthusiastically when they had -heard him play. And rapidly the two hours of practice passed; as a breath -to Sydney, who not only loved to sing, but lived his happiest hours, in -this household. - -On the way home when the two boys, Max and Sydney, changed cars at a busy -junction, they found the second car crowded at the rear end with high -school students. They had evidently been somewhere in a body, and were -noisy and restless, obstructing the passage way, playing rough pranks, -and acting as if they owned the car. - -“Move up forward!” the conductor repeated with no effect. - -The two edged slowly through, hindered by the wedged mass, and slyly -tripped by a hidden foot. All knew Sydney and greeted him by his -nickname; but only one spoke to Max. - -“Hello, young feller! What are you out of quod for?” sneered that one in -his ear. - -Max knew him. It was Walter Buckman, who had opened the door to him the -night he went to pay for his stolen supper. As Max, trying to obey the -conductor, pressed forward, one, instigated by Walter, pushed Sydney -aside and jerked Max against a lady so adroitly that it seemed entirely -Max’s fault. - -He righted himself, apologizing earnestly. But he had torn her dress and -she was not very gracious. - -“Aw, you have to excuse a drunken man, lady,” a noisy one called out, -and again began the pushing and scuffling. - -“Move up front there or I’ll put you off!” the conductor ordered more -sternly. - -“I’d like to see you do it!” one of the bolder threatened. - -Sydney saw Walter secretly urge the big fellow on. - -The conductor was not afraid. He stopped the car right there, opened the -gates, and collared the aggressor. - -But the students stood by their mate, and it would have gone hard with -the conductor if one or two men had not risen quickly and faced them. - -“You get off the car or we’ll help him put you off!” said one, a well -known banker, a man of power in the city. - -The big fellow, seeing opposition was useless, stepped down, calling to -the others to follow; but the conductor shut the gates, rang two bells, -and again ordered the young men forward. - -“Buckman, you get forward there,” the same authoritative passenger -ordered. “You’re the ringleader.” And to the lady of the torn dress he -said, indicating Max, “This young man is not at fault; it was those -behind him. I saw them.” - -“Stop at the next corner,” ordered Walter. - -The conductor was about to ring when the same man of authority said, -“Conductor, go on.” And to the boys, “You young ruffians, get up forward -there as ordered!” - -“You can’t do that,” Walter began; “we’ll have an action against the -company. You can’t prevent a passenger getting off at any street he -wants.” - -“Very well. Bring your action. I’m president of the company, and I -think, Walter Buckman, that your father will not care to sue for you, -not with these witnesses.” He whipped out a notebook and took the names -and addresses of some of the passengers, the lady’s whose dress had been -torn, and of one or two well-known men. - -Sullenly the squad of trouble makers moved up the aisle. And as they -passed Max, Walter leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I’ll get even -with you for this.” - -Sydney heard the words. “Don’t get fussed up,” he said to Max. “There’s -a few coming to him. That bunch isn’t out for any good, and Walt Buckman -ought to be headed the other way this time of night. He lives the second -door from Billy.” - -Max made no reply. Through the rest of the ride and while the two walked -the block between the car line and the nursery, he was wondering what -form Walter’s threat would take. And while he prepared for bed, and still -more in troubled dreams, his imagination conjured gruesome pictures. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -For many days Max observed Walter Buckman closely but saw nothing -suspicious except that he avoided meeting either Max or Sydney whenever -possible. - -Weeks passed. The trees were budding and the garden borders were yellow -with crocuses and daffodils. And with the spring came to Mrs. Schmitz, as -to most women, the fervor of house-cleaning. She did this as everything -else, with vigor and dispatch. - -“Come mit me, Seedney; you have to move,” she said breezily as she pushed -back from the early breakfast table one Saturday morning. - -Sydney looked up apprehensively. - -“Have no fear,” she began smilingly, yet her face saddened a little. -“Poor boy! You have so often to move in your life you are afraid of the -word, _nicht wahr_? I send you not away. Think not so.” - -Sydney’s face cleared and he followed her upstairs. - -“It iss here you will stay.” She stopped at the open door of a well -furnished chamber, the second finest of the six sleeping rooms. - -“Why? I am perfectly satisfied with my own place.” - -“This iss your own place now.” - -“But it is even finer than Max’s.” - -She looked at him keenly for a moment and dropped into a chair. “Here by -me sit; I speak mit you of something important.” For a little she was -silent, and he knew she was striving to find words in the troublesome -English that would correctly voice her thought. - -“I wonder if you shall understand what I am now to say? When you came -to me you had not much luxury seen; nicht wahr? Iss it not so?” she -translated quickly. - -Sydney smiled. “Oh, surely! A warm dry-goods box to sleep in sometimes, a -cheap boarding house here in this city, and--” he passed his hand across -his eyes--“and the time I spent with Billy Bennett at his cousin’s camp; -that was real luxury.” - -Mrs. Schmitz nodded understandingly. “But you have one time a home, a -house, a mother?” - -“Yes; but I hardly remember my mother. After she died pa wasn’t much on -the housekeeping, and we generally slept in a room somewheres and ate -round.” - -“Not square?” Her eyes twinkled, for she had no intention, as Sydney -could see, that the conversation should be a sad one. - -“Yes, round the square--at restaurants,” he bandied. - -“So? I think that. Now when you came here by me I gave you my poorest -room. I say to myself, this is for three times because. One because, he -iss not used to good things; he will feel not so strange in a poor but -comfortable room. Second because, I will see first how he treats mine -furniture. If he iss mitout care for it when it iss old, he will not be -goot to it when it iss new. Ant third because, I will see if--if first he -likes me.” She hesitated and averted her face. When she resumed her tone -was apologetic, almost diffident. “An old woman who all alone lives gets -pretty lonesome, seeing only people mit business. I think a goot boy will -be company.” - -Sydney could never have told what made him do it; he was crushed with -shame the moment it was over. With a quick gesture he reached out, caught -up her fat, work-worn hand, and kissed her bare arm. - -Except Mrs. Bennett’s one motherly welcome, he had not given or received -a kiss since his mother’s death; but in that illuminating instant he knew -it was the shadowy memory of her caresses that made him understand Mrs. -Schmitz’s loneliness; and a great hunger for affection that had been -growing all his forlorn life broke forth in that mute kiss. - -“Seedney!” She drew his head to her and kissed him softly on the cheek. -“We’ll be friends--always friends. _Nicht wahr?_” - -There was no excess of sentiment in her quiet tone; and in the kiss -even less of the passion of the mother than his had held of the passion -of a son. The words were rather the pledge of a great friendliness; a -friendliness that would outlast every trial. It was a solemn moment to -Sydney; he felt as if an angel had been near. - -“So now my three times because comes right, ant you take this room,” she -declared. - -“But it is too fine for me.” - -“No. Nothing I have iss too fine for you. I want you to feel all the time -that the whole world cannot give you too fine a thing. You are a man. -God makes you. In his image he makes you. The best cannot be too good -if--_if_ you feel always you are a child of the Divine.” - -A new light came into Sydney’s mind; the light that breaks in any soul -when first it realizes its divinity, its infinity. She had awakened -Sydney. - -“Where does it tell that? In the Bible?” - -“Yes. Ant your own soul tells you if you listen right. I will show you -also where to read. But not now--to-morrow. Today we work.” - -More she said as they moved Sydney’s possessions, partly in answer to his -wondering questions, but more directly from her store of wisdom. - -“_Du sollst deinen Naechsten lieben als dich selbst_,” she said musingly -after a pause and did not know she was speaking in German till she saw -Sydney’s look of perplexity. “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,” -she translated; “but if you think yourself a poor, mean creature, it iss -not much goot to love somebody like yourself.” - -“I never thought of it in that way,” Sydney observed. - -“One thing I tell you--watch Max. Copy him in manner; he iss a -gentleman. Also his father, though he iss a hard man.” - -“Ant also he loves Max but he shows it not right. The mutter--Ach, he has -no mother!” She sighed and hurried off to the next room. - -In a moment she was back again, a little excitement in her manner. “Not -one word shall you say to Max about this. He knows not that I know.” - -“You have seen--written to his father then?” Sydney hazarded. - -Her smile was inscrutable. “Not any of those things. Max tells it all to -me himself; not mit words--he never knows that he tells. I know. But you -ant I speak not. _Nicht wahr?_” - -Sydney assented and she continued. - -“I wish you should speak German mit Max ant me. I shall not make the -mistakes in German. I speak good Court German. It will later make--what -you say? credit for you in the university.” - -“Does Max speak it correctly?” - -“Surely. Beautiful German. Also you shall spend more time at the music. -You shall learn the piano. I will teach you.” - -“Oh, no, Mrs. Schmitz,” he objected; “it takes too much time. I shall -never be a pianist. I care only to sing.” - -“Of course you will not be a pianist. For that you begin as soon as you -can walk. But there be times when you must play your own accompaniment -mebbe, or refuse to sing. To refuse iss not goot. Also playing a little -helps to appear better in company.” - -“But you have too much to do. You are tired--” - -“Listen, goot boy! You help me more than you know. You make four eyes -to watch mine business. Things this year go goot. I shall soon keep one -cook. Then I have much time.” - -Sydney was truly glad, and showed his feeling; though he could not -express it as Max did when told of the impending change for the benefit -of the household. - -“Good! That’s right. It’s distressing to see her hands so stiffened with -hard work, when they should be kept soft and supple for the piano. Such a -woman drudging at man’s work, too! I hate it for her!” - -Sydney recognized that Max’s understanding of Mrs. Schmitz was far -more discriminating than his own, and the fact made him feel young and -ignorant. But he did not let this increase his jealousy. He believed he -had pretty well downed that meanness. - -Max, never dreaming of the sentiment he had aroused, unconsciously made -it harder for Sydney by his boyish chaffing, or by his excursions with -Mrs. Schmitz into the world of books and music where Sydney could not go. - -Yet this was the best thing that could have happened to Sydney. He began -to read as never before, spurred by his envy. Not tasks set by a teacher -nor for amusement; but for the sake of what he should find locked in -books. He tried hard to see the charm in the classics from which Max with -shining eyes quoted glibly. Many times he read things Max recommended, -read doggedly till at last the stately rhythm caught his ear, and the -meaningless words thrilled him. - -The day before Bess’s party Mrs. Schmitz surprised the boys with new -suits, shoes, ties, and gloves, everything complete. - -Max drew the soft handkerchief through his fingers caressingly. “What a -satisfaction! Real linen once more.” - -Sydney was pleased with his clothes but he did not know linen from -cotton, nor the value of knowing. Yet when both boys were dressed and -parading in front of their delighted house-mother, Sydney was fully as -grateful, as much filled with a comfortable sense of being well dressed -as was Max. And neither of them enjoyed their finery so much as the one -who gave it to them. - -The party was a success. Bess was a cordial, unaffected hostess; and her -father and mother doubled her welcome because they were able to be young -with young people. - -Ida Jones was there. Any girl or woman would have known that her simple -gown of rich creamy color cost little; a dressmaker would have known it -was homemade, yet to Sydney it looked gorgeous; and the rose she wore in -her hair, one that Bess begged to pin on after Ida arrived, held in its -deep heart all the rich reddish yellows and yellow browns of her hair. - -She looked so “dressed up,” so young lady-like, that Sydney was afraid -of her; and with a hurried nod, passed her and stood aloof with one or -two other young chaps, wearing their first evening clothes, cold with -nervousness, thinking every eye upon them. - -Bess spied them and came over, speaking to Sydney first. “Miss Jones -will be your partner for the evening. You must see that she has a good -time. May I depend on you, Mr. Bremmer?” - -She was more than ever the Queen of Sheba tonight, a large, richly -colored brunette with the mystery of the East looking from her dark eyes, -but the strength and fearless generosity of the West heartening through -all her cheery speech. Her dress of some soft, oriental stuff, simply -made and worn with no ornament save a strand of curiously wrought eastern -beads, emphasized and distinguished her from the over-dressed girls who -were in the majority. - -She, too, gave Sydney a shiver of strangeness. He did not notice that the -young men also looked “different,” wore their “company” manners; and the -“Mr. Bremmer” frightened him. - -“I--I’ll try. What--how--you know--Say! This is awfully--” - -“Awfully sudden? Why Mumps! I thought you could say something more -original; excruciatingly precipitant, or something like that. Go on, and -talk to her. Talk shop if you can’t think of anything else. Or tell her -how dandy she looks. She made that little frock herself. Isn’t she a--a -peach?” - -That bit of slang with the familiar name helped Sydney to “break -through,” as he knew she intended; for none better than Bess understood -the sort of good breeding that fits the rule to the situation. - -As he turned back he met May Nell Smith. She was almost grown, tall -and lady-like; yet she had the same sun-touched waving hair, the same -blue eyes and mystic, ethereal spirit looking out from them, that he -remembered when he first met her, a delicate little girl in the big car, -taking him and Billy on their first drive over the City of Green Hills. - -She greeted him warmly, a greeting that carried assurance of good will, -faith; a silent pledge of her trust that all felt who came near her. No -one met May Nell without determining to be at least a little different. -Not dreaming that she did it, she aroused everyone to his best. And -Sydney left her determined to bear his part for the evening so well that -Bess should be pleased with him. - -When he found Ida it was with an added respect for capability, as he -looked with more discriminating eyes at the pretty gown. He admired her -quiet good manners as she modestly, yet without shyness, met the many -strangers of the senior class, a formidable ordeal for an under-class -girl. - -Still under all her sedateness Ida was shy too. A fellow feeling drew -the two together, and they entertained each other with the exchanges -of personal experience inevitable when young people meet, each looking -eagerly out upon life to squeeze it dry of its fascinating mysteries. - -When dancing was called, Sydney, who did not dance, started to find her -partners. But she detained him, saying she would rather talk. However, -Sydney was suddenly brave, and, proud to be considered of consequence by -so attractive a girl, manlike, insisted. He must show her off. At least -she must dance with his very best friend, Billy; and Max was “awfully pat -on dancing”; she must give him one. - -She acquiesced; but sat out other dances with Sydney; and when dancing -was halted for singing, and Sydney had to go to the piano, he was -astonished and sorry to find the evening two-thirds gone. - -The quartette, accompanied by the three instruments, did well. The -audience voted the violin an “immense” addition. After the prepared -numbers they sang college songs, all joining; and when Max introduced two -or three songs new to them, playing odd, catchy little accompaniments, -sometimes whistling, sometimes singing in a funny high voice, half -tenor, half soprano in quality, they cheered him boisterously. - -Then they asked for something more ambitious from the violin. - -“I haven’t any music,” Max demurred. - -“The Queen has all the music ever printed,” Billy exaggerated gayly, -adding as he caught her scowl, “Miss Carter, alias Queen of Sheba.” - -“I’m sure you’ll find something, Mr. Ball,” she urged. - -“Here! Look it over!” Billy called, and with the familiarity of long -tried friendship threw open the door of the cabinet. - -“Here’s something I know,” Max said presently. “Who will play the -accompaniment?” He looked around expectantly, trying to keep doubt out of -his eyes; he was fastidious about that. - -“Bess can play for you,” Billy volunteered. - -“I’m afraid I can’t please you, but I’ll try if you wish.” - -Bess and Max, belonging to the small clan of the really courteous, made -no more excuses, but began at once a familiar number from one of the -operas, Max standing so that he faced Bess partly and could watch her in -the violin pauses. - -At first he played tamely, a little hesitatingly; but he soon saw that -Bess followed with fine discretion and sympathy, and he threw himself -into the work with entire forgetfulness of everything else. - -Sydney, relieved from the duty of entertaining, watched Bess’s flying -fingers; saw her intent look while the violin took up the theme alone; -and Max’s eager, rapt gaze upon her during his rests--the look of an -artist when he has discovered another. - -Without demur they responded to an encore, and after that supper was -announced. Later there was a little more dancing and a closing song. -Sydney, standing near, heard Bess invite Max to come often with his -violin and let her have the honor of learning his accompaniments in a -way that might exactly please him. - -“It’s what I’ve been hoping for every minute since you first touched the -keys this evening,” Max returned with an ardent look. Sydney could not -understand that it was the look of the musician rather than of the man. - -Bess blushed at the look and still more at Max’s polished manner, so -different from the bluff, frank ways of her comrades. It was more -grown-up, with an almost foreign air of reserve, yet conveying a subtle -flattery; and Sydney looking on felt anger rising in his heart. - -Here was one, scarcely his senior, dropped into their circle by a -sinister incident, coming from no one knew where, destined no one knew -where, handsome, gallant, gifted, aided by the gods themselves it seemed -to tongue-tied Sydney, in one evening walking into an intimacy with -Bess that he, Sydney, might wish for till doomsday and never dream of -achieving. - -Like some country booby, his mouth frozen open in astonishment, he sulked -by the newel till Ida, coming in her wraps, reminded him of duty and -courtesy. With difficulty he roused himself to a proper good-by to Doctor -and Mrs. Carter; but when he came to Bess he could trust himself for no -more than the words, “Thank you. Good night.” - -He was so silent that Ida wondered if she had said anything to offend -him. But her own small triumph, the brilliant scene, the comfort of -knowing herself appropriately gowned, the pleasure of meeting on an equal -footing those who had passed her indifferently each day, and best of all, -the knowledge unwittingly accorded by admiring eyes that she was at least -not unbeautiful--all this thrilled her, loosed her reticent tongue, and -kept her talking gayly till they arrived at her home. - -“Walter Buckman is dreadfully chagrined at receiving no invitation,” -she said at her door. “Did you know some of the Fussers were going to -boycott Miss Carter on account of it?” - -“Boycott Miss Carter!” Sydney echoed angrily. “Boycott! That means -cutting out Miss Smith, Reg Steele, Hec Price, and the quartette. What -will there be left of the senior class to boycott after that?” - -“Nothing,” Ida laughed happily. “They are the cream; after that only -riffraff like--like me; and I’m only a girl junior.” Again her soft laugh -rippled out: “I’ve had the best time I ever had in my life, and I thank -you for it.” - -“Thank Miss Carter.” - -“I do. But she would never have heard of me except for you. Good-by.” - -It was a mile further to the nursery but Sydney walked. He would not take -a car--face people. He wanted to arrive after Max, creep to his room, and -have it out with himself. - -But Max, too, had walked, wishing to be alone under the stars. And they -arrived in their street at the same time. - -Max was elated. His every step betrayed it. He strode along as if shod -with springs, and his voice thrilled with a new note. “Isn’t she great?” - -“Who? Miss Smith?” Sydney knew Max did not mean May Nell. - -“No, no. She’s lovely to look at and I guess lovely to know; I didn’t -notice her much. It’s Miss Carter I mean. There’s a real musician.” - -“Is that all you think she is? She’s much more than that,” Sydney -defended. - -“All! All? To be a real musician is to have tasted divine fire.” - -“All the same, I think it’s no compliment to a girl to think only of what -she can do,” Sydney persisted with some temper. - -“Sydney, you don’t understand. A musician, a real one, doesn’t _do_ -things musical; he _is_ them. Hundreds of girls strum _on_ the piano. -The rare one puts her soul into it and draws forth the angel of harmony -that civilizes us.” - -Sydney knew this was a high tribute, but with narrow, snap judgment -decided it was selfish. - -Max talked on, and on, more to himself than to his unwilling listener, -but roused at last to Sydney’s silence. “I guess you don’t wish me to -play with Miss Carter. Is that it? Do you care so much?” - -How could Sydney know that it was the intuition belonging to his -temperament that enabled Max to read his heart? Angry, hurt, jealous, -he did what the awkward, blundering boy so often does, denied himself, -belied himself. “I? I have nothing to say about it. Miss Carter is -nothing to me. I’ve known her some time, that’s all. Her folks are kind -to me, too.” - -“Then it’s all right?” - -“Of course it is.” - -“Good!” Max responded; and they entered the house. - -On the hall table lay a fat-looking, pretentious letter for Max. - -It was an invitation to him to join the Fussers Club. Reed Hathaway -begged the honor of presenting Mr. Ball’s name, and hoped for prompt -permission to do so. - -Max read it twice and handed it to Sydney with no comment. - -“Well, wouldn’t that flitter you!” he exclaimed, holding the big sheet -out far and up near, as if thus shifting it might cause some hidden -meaning to leap from the few words. - -“I’ve been in school only a few weeks; isn’t it pretty early to invite me -into that club of exclusives?” - -“No. They want to be styled good dressers and successful haughties. You -could wear rags better than some of them can wear the glad goods; and -your face, manner, and violin have done the rest.” - -“Yet--Reed Hathaway--he’s Buckman’s best friend; he must know of that -street-car incident. What does it mean?” - -“I pass it up. What do you think?” - -“It’s the riddle of the Sphinx to me.” - -“Sleep on it,” Sydney sagely advised; and they separated. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Max did sleep on it but morning brought no solution for the riddle. While -he dressed he pondered it, stopping to study the stately constitution and -by-laws submitted with the invitation. From them he gathered a greater -respect for the organization than its frivolous name had given him. But -he got no further toward discovering the reason for his invitation, and -ran downstairs, a little late, to find Mrs. Schmitz unusually excited. - -She had been drawn on jury duty, her first experience, for she had not -lived in Washington in the earlier territorial days when women were -citizens. - -“That cook comes not before next week, and now they call me on jury -already. That marmalade will spoil surely.” - -“Get excused,” advised Max. - -“To make marmalade?” Mrs. Schmitz turned swiftly to him, speaking -sternly. “In Germany one man does everything--one man and a few nobility. -In America all men of the nation have each work to do; and here in -Washington also women. I do not shirk.” - -“I see.” - -“We’ll take good care of things,” Sydney assured her; “it’s fine that -it’s vacation. Tell us what to do.” - -“Goot boy, Seedney! What to do you ever ask. You also so ask, Max?” - -“Surely.” - -Sydney noticed that Max’s face had no cloud on it. He did not show -resentment of her trust in Sydney, nor of his superior knowledge of -commonplace duties. - -“There iss not so much to do in the house--enough to eat--anyways -Seedney, you are a goot cook. Ant the nursery--you know already what -goes on there. Look a leetle out for Blitzen, ant--that iss all I guess.” - -“The marmalade?” Sydney inquired. - -“Oh, that spoils anyhow I guess. No matter. Mebbe the trials will be over -pretty quick; then I’ll make it.” - -She was as brisk and prompt about civic duty as about her own; and when -the boys insisted she should do no housework that morning, she was ready -before starting time, looking quite imposing in her “going out” clothes. - -While she sat waiting, Sydney ran out on some errand to the nursery, and -Max, still puzzling over the invitation he had received, seized this -opportunity to talk it over with her. - -She inquired the object of the club. The elaborate constitution couched -in flowing, dignified English was quite impressive. Max began to read it -to her, but she stopped him. - -“I cannot understand that language. What kind of boys belong?” - -“Some of the most influential boys in school, Sydney says.” - -“Influential?” She paused a moment as if studying the word. “That may be -goot or bad. Not bad I guess, or teachers would stop it.” - -It was time to start and they walked across to the car line, passing on -the way a row of splendid maples growing from the ground about three feet -above the sidewalk. The bank had recently been cut down sheer and many -roots were exposed. - -“Look here already!” Mrs. Schmitz indicated a slender root of uniform -size running laterally, entirely in view. “What do you see?” - -“Jolly! It runs from a down-bearing root of this tree right to a similar -root of that other tree. And here’s another!” he called, walking rapidly -ahead of her. “I didn’t know things like that happened.” - -“Look close. You see many more leetle roots all going same way.” - -“How strange!” - -“Not so. You have not studied; that’s all. Under ground are many strange -things. From air, water, ground, and sun comes all life; but first -everything begins in the ground--in the dark.” - -Max was awed by her seriousness. “Everything?” he said. - -“Yes.” She picked up a little twig and began to stir the loose earth -absent-mindedly. “Now--this time of year are great things going on down -there--in the dark. A great fight for life. All the leetle seeds hear the -spring birds sing ant they feel the warm sun coming; ant something tells -them, ‘Come up! Come up! Come quick before it iss too late.’” - -“Too late?” Max repeated when she dropped into silence. - -“There iss so much for seeds to do in one summer, to feed themself with -air, sun, water, that makes them to grow; to make flower ant seed; ant -to put in every leetle seed also enough to last it through the long -winter.” - -It seemed strange to Max that she should speak of a mere seed as if it -were sentient. - -“So many seeds, so many new leetle roots growing, sometimes so leetle -rain ant so hard the ground--it iss all one big fight, pushings, -pullings, to see who first gets to the top, to the light.” - -“I don’t see how they know when to start--the little seeds shut up in the -dark down there.” - -“Their soul tells them.” - -“Soul?” Max asked, startled. - -“Yes. In all things, behind everything living iss soul.” - -“That seems queer. I never thought a plant could have a soul.” - -“Mebbe you call it intelligence. Names make leetle difference. What do -you think? Look at mine lily. It iss in November just a dry brown thing -like onions. I put it in the ground. It grows, blooms with a beautiful -flower; then its leafs die, its flower, all you see. In August it iss -again one dry brown thing like onions. But inside iss all the bloom, all -the green leafs, all the lovely color, sweet fragrance, wrapped in those -leetle silk folds. It has drawn all back again into itself. I throw it in -mine cellar. It has no water, no light, nothing; but next year if I put -it once again into the ground it blooms. What do you call that?” - -“I--I don’t know. It’s wonderful!” - -“Also grass thinks.” - -“Thinks! Grass?” - -They were passing a lawn that needed mowing. “See that clover? In May it -blooms. Every week after that this man mows his lawn, ant every week he -cuts off leetle clover blossoms mebbe two inches high. But there on the -vacant lot just beside you see other clover growing?” - -“Yes.” - -“That also gets plenty water from the sprinkler; but that clover takes -its time. That clover grows mebbe one foot high before it blooms. What do -you call that? That grass thinks mebbe? _Nicht wahr?_” - -Max looked his astonishment. “Why is it so?” - -“Why? It iss the law of life. All things before they die give back to the -world children. If the clover in the lawn hurries not it never blooms; -never puts out its flower. The clover on the side needs not to hurry.” - -“I shall never look at clover again without thinking of all this.” - -“Soul, law, intelligence, God--I think all those names mean pretty near -the same, and Heavenly Father iss best of all. Plant, bird, man,--all are -in God’s hant. All are brothers. One plant likes one thing. Another plant -likes it not, but something else. Each helps all.” - -“Yes, I begin to see,” Max said, his face shining with understanding. - -“Those maple trees mit big tops--alone mit a big wind they fall mebbe; -tied together mit many roots they stand.” - -“And for such needs are clubs, societies, and----” - -“That iss right! How quick you see, Max!” - -The car interrupted them, and she left him, waving her smart umbrella -in good-by. From her face beamed a love for him, for all humanity, that -as yet he could but half appreciate; yet her words had made a deep -impression. - -When he returned to the house he found Sydney washing the dishes. “Here! -Let me bear a hand.” He caught the towel and began to dry the plates. - -Sydney was silent, for a scheme was growing, the making of the marmalade. - -“Why not?” he asked when Max objected that they might spoil it. “The -stuff will spoil anyway; if we can save it, won’t it be so much to the -good?” - -“Yes. But can we do it right?” - -“No matter. She makes the best marmalade in town, the neighbors say. They -know, for she gives away a lot. She’s started this right; if we finish it -up half right it will do for us boobs to eat on bread and butter, won’t -it?” - -“Surely, and be much better than we deserve probably.” - -The dishes finished, Sydney found Mrs. Schmitz’s recipe book and the two -studied the complicated directions. It was a three days’ process, and -they could not make up their minds whether this was the second or third -day, so little idea had they of the “looks of the mess.” But they acted -on the latter inference. - -“Let’s do it today and get it over with,” Sydney, the prompt, suggested. - -“Very well. Tell me what to do.” - -Not without a little show of importance Sydney bustled about, giving -orders, looking up the great preserving kettle, and searching for such -materials as he judged were not already put together. - -Max minded this not in the least. He had the soul of the true artist, -who is always too deeply engrossed in his work to notice what others -are doing, or saying of him. Over and over he read the recipe, -thinking closely, and once or twice correcting Sydney himself in his -interpretation. - -It was great fun till the long process of boiling and simmering came, -and the kitchen grew hot, as, boy fashion, they stuffed the range with -kindling and coal, and in consequence had to cook their sweet stuff on -the very rear edge of the range. - -But Sydney found Max a good partner in distress. He did even more than -his share of the watching and stirring, declaring it was the proper work -of the second cook. - -“How is it, Max, that whatever you take up, you do it so perfectly, so -successfully at the very first? I must always try and try again.” - -“I don’t know. I like to undertake new things. I put my whole mind on -what I do.” - -“So do I. But it’s something more than that. Look at the way you have -taken to the work in the hothouses. Only yesterday Mrs. Schmitz said -you learned wonderfully fast; as if you knew long ago, and had only to -‘remember it as from sleep waking.’” - -“How could I help learning about plants with her to teach me? She makes -them so interesting. She loves them as if they were children, and while -I’m with her I feel the same. If it wasn’t for music I could be willing -to work always with them.” - -“Yet you couldn’t get work last winter. That seems strange.” - -Max thought a moment before replying. “I don’t understand it myself. -The first work I had after I arrived in the City of Green Hills was -collecting for a doctor. I was too careless--no, I didn’t know enough -to hide the money; and the third day a big fellow caught me in a lonely -place and robbed me. The doctor wouldn’t believe me, and so I lost that -job.” - -“Gee! That was rough.” - -“The next thing was being bell boy at a hotel. That lasted two months, -but----say, Sydney, I just hated that work. At first it made me feel mean -to take tips; then I got to looking for ’em, and I--left.” - -Sydney scanned the noncommittal face during the pause that followed. - -“When I remembered my mother I--I couldn’t go on there. I was out of work -a long time after that, and on the street two days and nights before -I went--where I had declared I would not go--to the brewery to wash -bottles.” He turned away with a motion of disgust. “Gee! The odor of that -stale beer! I smell it yet.” - -“But why didn’t you try for a chance in an orchestra?” - -Max smiled. “With no proper clothes, no violin, and not a friend among -people that care for music? There was no Mrs. Schmitz standing round, -ready to hand me an old Cremona.” - -Both were silent a moment. “But even bottle washers get too plenty in the -winter when work is slack; and after I began to cough so hard the men -were afraid of tuberculosis and wouldn’t work with me and I had to go. I -couldn’t seem to impress any one with my superior skill as bottle washer -enough to command a promotion.” He gave Sydney a crooked smile that was -not all mirth. - -“That’s because it was work that needed no thought.” - -“That isn’t all. There was no one to take an interest in me, to show me -what to do, and how, as Mrs. Schmitz does. And more than that, no one had -the kind of work suited to me.” - -“I reckon that has the most to do with it,” Sydney acquiesced. - -“Now this playing at the moving picture houses--that’s work I ought to do -well. My father paid for my lessons for years--he hated to do it, for he -didn’t want me to be a musician, but mother insisted. Mrs. Schmitz has -helped me to make something from all that training.” - -“A good friend does help a lot, doesn’t he?” - -“Wonderfully. A little more than six weeks altogether I’ve played, -most of the time evenings only, and I’ve made enough to buy all the -clothes I need, to pay Mrs. Schmitz a little for my first month’s board -and nursing, all she’ll let me pay. I’m in school, I’m learning a -business--no matter if it is slowly--I have good health, am invited to -join the Fussers, and--have a chance to play with Miss Carter. Gee! If -any one had shown me all those pictures the night before I broke in here -I’d have thought he was dippy.” There was a happy, boyish lilt in his -tones, and he began to whistle as he stirred the steaming fruit. - -Carefully into the glasses, as Sydney had seen Mrs. Schmitz put away her -jellies, they dipped the marmalade, and afterward washed up the dishes -and put the kitchen in order, rather proud of their morning’s work. Then -they went to the nursery to help in the potting, the making of new beds, -the “slipping,” or whatever work was most pressing. - -That day and night they did little cooking. Anyone could live well more -than one day on warmed-up things at Mrs. Schmitz’s home. Early in the -evening Max wrote and posted his acceptance of the invitation to have his -name proposed for the Fussers. - -They went to bed early. Neither would acknowledge how lonely he was -without Mrs. Schmitz; though each knew the other felt it. - -The next afternoon a cheery voice came over the line. - -“Have you all been well efer since I left you?” Mrs. Schmitz inquired. -“It seems one year already. I come tonight; in about two hours now.” - -“Let’s surprise her!” Max proposed. “Have a bang-up dinner. You boss, and -I’ll help.” - -Sydney agreed readily and both went at it. - -“We’ll serve it in courses. I’ll wait on you two, and we’ll make her -think of old days, when she had servants at every turn.” - -“How do you know she had them? Did she tell you?” Sydney speculated upon -her confidences to Max, thinking they must have been much greater than -any she had given him. But Max’s laughing reply disarmed him. - -“She’s scarcely mentioned her past life to me; but can’t you see? She -betrays at every turn the fact of her gentle breeding and familiarity -with luxury.” - -Sydney saw that it was because like knows like that Max understood these -things. - -He set the table with great ceremony, putting on all the silver he could -find, meanwhile suggesting many unusual dishes from which they selected -those they knew how to prepare or those that “sounded easy.” Max brought -the nicest linen, and from the greenhouses fragrant flowers, arranging a -center piece that Sydney admired, secretly envying Max his skill. - -Mrs. Schmitz came like a joyous, fragrant summer wind. She seemed to -bring life to a dead house; sweetness, goodness; in short, motherhood. - -She laughed, exclaimed, kissed each boy on the cheek--and Sydney blushed -with bashfulness. She took off her hat and ran to the dining room, saying -she must start dinner. Max caught her back and himself took off her coat. -Then she started toward the side door that led to the nursery, and Sydney -interrupted her there. - -“Dinner’s most ready,” he announced with importance. - -“What? You boys the dinner cook?” - -They nodded vigorously. - -“And it will spoil if you don’t hasten,” Max continued. “You said you’d -be here in two hours. We set the time half an hour later; but you are -late and you have just seven minutes in which to make your toilet.” - -Laughing and happy, she went upstairs; and they could hear her stepping -about overhead, pulling out drawers, opening doors, and making a racket -in more rooms than one. When she entered the sitting room again she was -only a minute late and was in evening dress. - -[Illustration: She was in evening dress] - -Both boys started. For all Max had told Sydney so much, and had realized -more, even he was not prepared for the grand dame who swept in upon -them, bowing low to both. Her fine white skin and plump neck, freed from -the stiff collar she usually wore, gave her, as with all stout women, a -stateliness the boys had little suspected; and the sweeping train added -to this effect. The high-piled hair, gray but waving and beautiful, her -dark blue eyes that could be merry, tender, scornful, or stern, all her -kind features they knew so well, took on an air that made her for an -instant almost a stranger. - -“In honor of my dear young men, Sydney and Max, I have dressed for -dinner.” - -Sydney did not know that her elegant finery, shipped from Germany, was -old in style. Max knew, but didn’t care, since it was rich and becoming. - -“Thank you, dear Mrs. Schmitz. Madame, dinner is served.” - -Sydney merely stared. Max’s “thank you” was spoken as a most loving son -might greet his mother; but he wore an apron and carried a napkin on his -arm; and his “dinner is served,” was in the tone of the most obsequious -servant. - -They went out in great state, Sydney giving his arm, and Max throwing -open the door, drawing the chair for Madame and, when he had seated her, -standing stiffly behind her. - -Before she could touch her soup Sydney brought a jar of marmalade, -insisting that she should try it at once. - -“No, no! Not before soup!” Max objected, forgetting his “place” as -waiter. “Take your sweets away till dessert.” - -“They’re his sweets too. It’s really a three-partner job,” Sydney -explained. - -Mrs. Schmitz pronounced it excellent with such fervor that both boys were -convinced. She never told them that it was “clear as mud.” How could it -be otherwise when Max had “stirred it to death”? - -With great merriment, and in several courses, the dinner passed. Max -insisted on serving in great style because he knew how it should be done; -but she blighted his vanity by commanding him to his own seat while they -ate. It was really a success. She praised everything, entering into -their fun; and the boys, taught by her absence, felt a deeper joy in -all she did, realizing gratefully how much a part of her home life she -considered them. - -A few days after this came a telephone summons from Bess Carter for Max -to bring his violin and music. There was an invitation for Sydney also, -but he refused--so curtly that Max, who, though leaving the room, could -not help hearing it, was out of patience with him. And when he came home -after an evening of music and joy he painted it in extravagant fashion, -intending to punish Sydney for slighting Miss Carter. He never dreamed he -was stirring an already hot-burning fire in Sydney’s heart. - -It was by no means love for Bess that seethed in his veins. Neither -was it any passion that Sydney could recognize and analyze. It was a -savage sort of resentment that another should be able to please, not -only Bess, but all, girls and boys; that Max should be able to say with -ease the most appropriate and interesting things, while he, Sydney, the -tongue-tied, could merely mumble. That Max could make exquisite music, do -the gallant thing at the right moment, and wear his clothes as if they -were king’s ermine--it was all this that made the less gifted, untaught -waif of a boy--boy yet though a man in size--rage at himself and hate -everyone, Max in particular. - -Twice more Max came home radiant, the second time full of plans for -more music through that part of the vacation when Bess should be in -town, and afterward when both should be in the university. For Max, the -housebreaker, had taken a new hold on life, had determined to be a man in -the world of best men. Mrs. Schmitz had resurrected his ambition. - -Then the blow fell. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -It was the day when Max was to be voted into the Fussers Club. He -sat waiting in the anteroom, feeling keenly the air of expectation, -a thrilling sense of important things impending. He wondered if some -disturbance was going on in the assembly room of the club; speculated -vaguely upon what part in the fortunes of the organization he might be -called to play. Whatever it might be, he would not shirk. - -In a corner two young men were evidently though noiselessly quarreling. -Presently Walter Buckman and Billy Bennett came from the club room and -joined the others, when the altercation became more violent. Short -disjointed remarks floated out to the listeners “--a chance,” from Billy; -and “--any such example,” from Walter. - -“What are they talking about?” Max asked one standing near him, noting -that with each moment the number in the room increased. - -“That is the investigating committee.” - -“Do they often disagree so?” - -“No. And today there’s only one candidate; there must be something -doing.” The speaker moved quickly away. - -Max noticed this, and Walter’s increasing vehemence; and instantly a -premonition of disaster swept him like a cold, wet blast. - -[Illustration: A premonition of disaster swept him] - -“I tell you I won’t stand for any thieves being voted into the Fussers,” -Walter shouted, heedless of a sibilant “Hush!” from one of the others. - -“I’ll stake my honor he’s all right,” Billy Bennett shouted back, and Max -silently blessed him for those words. - -Max understood--saw it all as plain as the sum of two and two. This -was the way Walter Buckman had taken to “get even.” He had urged Reed -Hathaway to present Max’s name, had “talked up” the candidate right and -left, and had even told Billy, who had repeated it to Max, that the -proposed member would lend more style and more genius to the club than -any ten previous members. - -Now Max knew these honeyed praises were only for the purpose of -attracting attention, for filling the room with the curious, so that -Walter’s bomb would have an audience. - -Max decided to hurry the explosion. He stepped forward and faced the -committee in the corner. “I understand that my name is the only one -under consideration, and that the investigating committee is embarrassed -concerning it. I withdraw my name as a candidate for the Fussers Club.” -He bowed and was turning away when Walter Buckman strode into the middle -of the room with an air of importance, exclaiming: - -“No, sir! You don’t walk off with that air of injured innocence. Right -here and now I brand you as a thief, Max Ball!” - -Max would have replied but a great hubbub rose. He had won friends among -pupils and teachers; and those who best knew Walter were sure there was -some malevolence back of this attack, and they stood for fair play. -Walter’s father, however, was a wealthy business man of large power in -the city and this had weight with the truculent ones, making a following -for the son as well as the father. - -But Billy Bennett cared nothing at all for Buckman, senior or junior, -when fair play was at stake; nor even for the much admired magnate, Mr. -Smith, May Nell’s father. “I protest,” he cried. “This accusation is -unworthy a student. No matter how incriminating circumstances may appear, -there is always a chance that they may not be true. Walter Buckman, I -want you to retract that statement.” All knew Billy was recalling his own -bitter experience of the year before when Jim Barney trapped him into -appearing as a thief. - -“I retract nothing!” Walter shouted vindictively. “I say that last winter -he robbed our ice box; and I dare him to deny it.” - -Pale as ever he would be in his coffin, Max stepped to the center of the -room, looked about him, and said in a low, steady voice, “Gentlemen, it -is true. I only hope that if such a great temptation--such a great need -should come to any one here he will have more strength than I had to -resist it.” - -He bowed comprehensively, and before any of them could recover from -amazement, was gone. - -It took minutes for even quick-witted Billy to comprehend what had really -happened; and still more time to think what to do next. He voiced the -opinion of all the more thoughtful ones there when he said, “Fellows, I -believe we’ve made the mistake of our lives.” - -“We?” Sis Jones called out. “It’s only Buckman here. He’s the spot-light -kicker. We had a chance to help a good man to success, and Buckman’s -kicked him out of the procession.” - -“So? You stand for approving thieves, I suppose,” Walter sneered. - -“Whatever he’s done must have been because of some terrible reason,” -Billy averred. “Looking into his face when he said those last words, one -must believe in him.” - -“Well, you may. I don’t. I know about him; and those who stand for that -fellow may cut my acquaintance after this.” Walter strode off, with a -large number obsequiously accompanying him. - -“Well, wouldn’t that totter you?” Billy turned to “Sis.” - -“We must kick in for Max good and plenty,” “Sis” flashed. “He’s good meat -clear through to the bone.” - -A little longer they talked, trying to think out some way to save Max -from his enemy. - -“Do you suppose he was ever really hungry--desperately so?” “Sis” asked -with awe. - -“Gee! I’ve been hungry enough between sunrise and sunset to eat an ice -box whole.” - -“So have I. Suppose a fellow had no father and no money, and -had--gone--two days, say, unfed?” - -Billy nodded violently. Words could not express such a contingency. - -“I’m going right out to see Mrs. Schmitz. She and Mumps and I together -surely can cook up some scheme to put Max to the good again. We’ll enlist -Bess and May Nell and you and Redtop--Oh, I know, I’ll get Cousin Hec to -give some sort of swell function for Max, show off his music; invite all -the bang-ups, and Walter Buckman and his crowd, too--” - -“Bully! Walter’s too much of a snob to slight the Prices or Hec’s gang; -and if Walter goes he’ll have to swallow Max whole and shut off his gab.” - -Billy started away to see Sydney. He was detained by unexpected duties -however, and it was an hour after the explosion at school before he -arrived to find his friends in the greatest excitement. - -“He iss gone!” Mrs. Schmitz burst out with no other greeting, as Billy -appeared at the open door. “Mine poor boy! The world kicks him down -already.” - -“And it’s my fault,” Sydney added gloomily. - -“How’s that?” Billy asked, mystified. - -“Read you this.” Mrs. Schmitz thrust a letter into his hand. “A messenger -brings it but this minute.” - -With clumsy fingers Billy unfolded the sheet and read: - - DEAR MRS. SCHMITZ, MY SECOND MOTHER: - - The boys found me out and exposed me. I could not deny the - charge, and explanations would have been useless. - - I must go away and begin all over again where no one knows me. - But don’t worry about me. Wherever I am I shall not shame you. - If I can’t earn food I shall not steal, but starve as quietly - as I may. Yet I have a feeling that somewhere I shall make - good; I owe that to you. - - I shall love you and Sydney always. This is good-by to you both. - - MAX. - -Billy stared at the others over the paper, and for a moment the room was -quite still. - -Mrs. Schmitz was in a brown study. Poor Sydney’s head was bowed, his face -dark with self-accusation. The clock ticked noisily, and a proud rooster -across the street, adding his voice to that of a laying hen, cackled with -the vigor of a dozen cocks, Billy thought. From a spring-fed, marshy lot -beyond, a bullfrog croaked suddenly. These sounds, usually unheeded, now -thrust themselves upon Billy’s attention with insistence and annoyance. - -“This will throw out the class play,” he said abruptly. - -“That’s no great matter. You can alter it.” - -Billy recognized Sydney’s impatience. “It _is_ matter. I’ve built the -whole play with Max in view for the leading character; and you to play -up to him. His violin, too--why, there’s no one in the world but him to -fit in right and do the part.” - -“Write another play then,” Sydney exclaimed irritably. - -Billy, not knowing the cause of Sydney’s impatience, turned in despair -to Mrs. Schmitz. “Write a three-act play and coach it, in less than two -months--and keep my place in class. And I’m expected with the play to win -out for the Fifth Avenue High on the literary contest. Mumps! It beats -the school! Don’t you see? If we don’t find Max we lose to one of the -five other Highs; don’t you see?” - -Billy probably did not know it, but he came as near having tears in his -voice as a deep-voiced young man with some pride can come and not really -sob. - -This added to Mrs. Schmitz’s own zeal. She had been thinking to some -purpose. “We shall find him! Soon! He shall play--save your drama!” She -started up. - -“I’m the one. It’s up to me to do the trick. I wish I could see how.” -Sydney clenched his hands harder, and his perplexed scowl grew deeper. - -“I’ll tell you--I’ll advertise.” - -Then Sydney astonished them by making the longest speech they had ever -heard from him. “This job of finding Max is mine. If I hadn’t been yellow -clean through I’d have been there in the anteroom when Walter Buckman -played his mean trick; been there to hit back, to come out with Max, to -make him come home with me. Five minutes with you, Mrs. Schmitz, would -have put him steady again. He’s no coward, but he feels things a lot--his -skin’s thinner than my thick hide, and--” - -“Stop! You shall not call mine Seedney names.” - -He nodded grimly and continued. “But I was jealous of him, that’s what. -Jealous from that first night when you put him in the best room, Mrs. -Schmitz. Even after you talked it out of me the day you gave me my new -room, and I thought I had the little deev killed and buried for good, -he came to life like a cat on one of her nine laps. I hated Max because -everything he did was fine. He could please everybody, play, do things -right the first time--Oh, it’s no use talking about that any more. I’ve -got to do the fair thing now--find him, find him!” - -“We’ll do it. We’ll advertise,” Mrs. Schmitz declared again. - -“There’s danger he won’t read the papers. Wouldn’t a detective be better?” - -“Gee! That’ll be the trick!” Billy approved; “but it will take a lot of -money.” - -“I’ll find that money!” Mrs. Schmitz offered quickly. - -“I’ll pay it back if it takes me years to earn it. And I’ll never -go inside the Fifth Avenue High again till Max goes with me.” Sydney -straightened with a decision new to Billy. It seemed as if he had in a -moment taken up a great burden that he would carry to success or die in -the attempt. - -Mrs. Schmitz stood beside him and patted his arm. “Seedney, that leetle -yeller fellow iss good and dead now already. He never again squeaks. Now -I will go mit you to find--” - -He faced her with determination. “No, Mrs. Schmitz, I must do this -alone--if I can. Let me take my own way for three days. If the -detective--if I learn nothing then I will ask you--” - -“Me, too, Mumps!” Billy flung in. - -“Yes, both of you. Max had no money to speak of; I happened to see his -purse when he paid his fare this morning; there was only a little small -change. He can’t go far on that.” - -“No. And while you’re hunting him I’ll talk things over with mother and -sister, the quartette and the bunch; and when Max returns we’ll all camp -on his trail, so that no matter what the Buckman crowd does, Max will -feel he has a jolly good gang behind him.” - -“Goot! That’s right, Billy. The friends that beliefs in you before you -prove out are worth having. After you are successful you don’t need ’em. -Comes so many then they are in the way.” - -Sydney left them and went down town, going first to Mr. Streeter, and -laying the whole case before him, not sparing himself. - -His faith was warranted, for Mr. Streeter had not befriended many boys in -trouble without coming well in touch with the machinery of the law. He -knew the best detective, and went with Sydney to find him. This man had -more than once successfully run down a boy for this kind friend of boys. - -Sydney told his story and answered many questions; and when the search -had been thus launched, he wandered about, not knowing just what to do -next. At a busy corner he was recalled from a brown study by a familiar -greeting, “_Kla-how-ya!_” A Chinook salutation. - -“_Kla-how-ya!_” he returned, stopping beside a group of Indian women, -two squaws and a child, squatted against a store front with their wares -exposed for sale, baskets, mats, and beadwork. He knew them well; had met -them several times at the Reservation. Often he and Max stopped to chat -with them, and the older squaw had taken a great fancy to Max. - -“Come Tu-la-lip tonight?” - -“No; I can’t go tonight.” - -“Heap big wau-wau and shantie.” She meant that the Indians were to have -a story-telling and sing. Twice Max and Sydney had gone to Tu-la-lip -Reservation, for Max was deeply interested in the Indians, some of -them old friends of Sydney’s. He had sung for them; and Max played -his violin--“tin-tin,” they called it, their name for any musical -instrument--and they liked it immensely. - -Sydney declined the old squaw a little carelessly. “Some other time.” - -“Ow go already.” This was her word for “younger brother,” and meant Max. - -Sydney sprang toward her, excited. “When? What boat?” - -She told him. It was the four o’clock boat. The next was at six-thirty; -and Sydney had ample time to catch it. The Indians rose slowly, rolled up -their goods, and plodded gravely toward the dock; the Government obliged -them to be at the Reservation every night. - -But Sydney ran ahead of them, his brain in a whirl. What could have -decided Max to go there, of all places in the world? The fare, to be -sure, was only a quarter, but that sum would take him to any one of -a score of small ports on the Sound. At the Reservation there was -positively nothing in the way of work for Max. Over and over during the -half-hour’s travel Sydney pondered the matter, arriving at no conclusion. - -When the boat touched the landing he was off before the hawser was -thrown, skimming the narrow strip of water in a leap, even while the -angry captain shouted a command to wait. - -He ran up the patch to the agent’s house, but his anxious query brought -no information; Max had not been seen there. - -Baffled, Sydney turned, pointing to the old squaw of the street shop in -the City of Green Hills. “She told him he came on the early boat,” he -panted. - -The agent questioned the squaw in her own language; but before he had -spoken many words a little boy standing by broke in, jabbering fast, and -pointing across a wooded peninsula where the Sound waters dip into the -forested hills in a narrow inlet. - -“This chap says your friend came here but hurried across the Point to -the mill. A lumber ship is loading there,” the agent translated. - -Sydney waited for no more but set out at a run. That was what Max -intended--to ship to some distant port! That would certainly hide him -well, and give him a living on his way. Sydney thought of sensitive, -gifted Max handling “tackle,” and “bossed” around by some profane mate; -treated like a machine rather than like a human being--no, worse; -machines are property and get consideration. It is only human life that -is wasted with unconcern, it is so plenty. - -Running faster and faster, Sydney emerged from the woods to see the ship -steaming slowly into the bay. For a minute his legs trembled under him -and he almost fell. Too late! Max was surely there, lost to them forever! -Suddenly Sydney knew how thoroughly he had uprooted his jealousy, how -deeply Max had become fixed in his heart, a part of his life, his joy and -inspiration. - -Another quick thought buoyed Sydney--no one would be likely to find a -berth on a ship so near to sailing as this had been. - -He watched her a moment and turned back toward the mill, stumbling along -out of breath, and arriving to learn that one resembling Max had tried -and failed to ship, and had set off southward. - -Southward! The Pritchard Mills, one of them the largest shingle mill in -the world! Ships were always loading there; of course that was where Max -would turn next. The millman said one ship was due to sail with the tide -that night if she could get a crew. The captain had been unable to sail -sooner for lack of men. - -Max would surely be taken! Sydney must hurry. He asked for a horse and -was laughed at. Horses there in those dense forests were “scarce as hen’s -teeth.” - -There was nothing for it but to walk--nine miles. Sydney knew the road -skirting the shore for he had traveled it when on a “hike” with his -troop; but in daylight and with a guide was a different matter; now it -was nearing dark--it must be half past seven. Yet he must try it; yes, -try, and succeed! He must, must arrive before the ship sailed. - -He started off slowly, for he had run the two miles from the Reservation -with no thought of saving himself; now he must husband his strength if he -would endure, arrive. It was too bad that he could not begin with speed -for the first three miles were open and clear; the dark road was farther -on. - -Yet he restrained himself sternly, and in spite of the light fog he saw -settling beneath the early stars. There were many short cut-offs where a -dim path led over some sharp pitch that the road circled at sea level. -Sydney took these as long as he could see, noting that many cow paths -led off at various angles, and were in some cases more distinct than the -right one. - -After a time he broke into his best pace, choosing his path as carefully -as possible. He judged he had traveled about five miles when he came to a -tongue of heavily wooded land making far out into the Sound. - -The trail was good and he had little difficulty in keeping it. Once or -twice he found himself a few steps off, but was quickly warned by the -difficult going. Yet so long the tramp seemed to him that he feared he -had lost the way, and was beginning to despair, when he heard the welcome -lap-lap of the waves, and was soon on the wagon road again, with the -distant lights of Pritchard Mills beckoning cheerily in long, brilliant -spikes through the thin fog, and several ships a-light riding at anchor -in the harbor. - -Heartened, Sydney ran on at fine speed over the smooth springy road, -arriving at the wharfinger’s office, spent and breathless, but in good -spirits. No ship was leaving. - -Sydney described Max. - -“Oh, yes. That chap blew in half an hour ago; but he’s done up. He’ll not -leave port very soon, if ever.” - -Chilled with apprehension, Sydney, following the man’s directions, set -out once more to find Max. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Sydney found Max lying in a lumberman’s bunk, partially restored and able -to give greeting with both hand and word. - -“The jig’s up, you runaway; you’ve got to come home with me.” Sydney was -still panting from his long run. - -Max shook his head wearily, but not before his eyes had flashed tell-tale -joy at the word “home.” “I can’t, Sydney. I must not bring shame to my -friends, Mrs. Schmitz, you--” - -“Shame, nothing! We’re only ashamed that you ran away.” - -“But Walter Buckman--” - -“Be hanged! The bunch he runs with would have troubles of their own if -they were investigated. Jim Barney--rotten bad, he was--he was Walter’s -particular pal last year; and Walter’s stand for high morals is too -thin. He can’t put it over. Come on.” - -“But Mrs. Schmitz?” - -“She says she’ll be everlastingly ashamed of you if you don’t come home.” - -Max had not dreamed he was doing less than right by her in taking himself -permanently out of her life. Sydney’s report of her attitude put a new -light on the matter. It was enough. He would go back, would meet the -issue; in Sydney’s parlance, take what was coming. - -There was no boat till morning; and by that time, he was able with the -help of his friend to make the trip and arrive at the nursery home where -Mrs. Schmitz, apprised by Sydney’s telephone message, had Dr. Carter -waiting. His examination resulted in a mild prescription, mostly rest; -and Mrs. Schmitz took charge. - -“You get to bed mit you, right away quick--you, Max. A boy when he runs -away gets punished mit the bed.” - -The twinkle in her eye and the mother-tone in her voice were very welcome -to the overwrought boy who had lived, it seemed, years of misery since -the hour he left the schoolhouse. - -He was not really ill, though his exhaustion, following his protracted -illness of the winter, was serious. But Mrs. Schmitz had no use for -“mollygrups.” She petted, coaxed, scolded, and laughed at him in turn, -and soon had him on his feet again, “so goot as efer.” - -The “bunch,” instigated by Billy, did a beautiful thing on the trying -morning of Max’s return to school. They stood together in one of the -halls where, by appointment, Sydney brought Max--the “cream of the -seniors,” “Sis” Jones declared in a hissing whisper as Walter passed. - -When the two came the greeting was not noisy; just hearty handshakes, and -silent messages from, sympathetic eyes, with quiet jokes and, “on the -side,” promises of friendship. - -When Max reached his desk he found a fat letter containing “welcome” -notes from Billy, Bess, May Nell, and many others. By the light in his -teacher’s eye when she spoke to him, Max knew he was still trusted; and -he lifted his head with courage, and entered upon his task of “living -down” any accusations Walter Buckman and his friends might make, a task -that loomed very large to him. - -Billy’s efforts, enlisted by Sydney in behalf of Ida Jones, had long -before this borne fruit. May Nell’s own shining electric motor stood more -than once in front of the house where Ida lived, impressing the family -little less than when she was driven up in her mother’s great limousine. -And Bess Carter, whether she walked, came by trolley, or was dropped -from his motor car by Dr. Carter, radiated power and a bluff sort of -queenliness all her own that was even more impressive than evidence of -wealth. - -The Pattons, with whom Ida lived, were not unkind to her. They received -her as one of the family, including her in such privileges as they -enjoyed, which were few enough. For there was a houseful of small -children to be cared for on slender means, entailing hard work for both -Ida and her employer, who was uneducated and not in sympathy with the -girl’s intense devotion to school. - -Yet when she saw the friends Ida had made, and that their visits were not -merely formal, she looked with increased respect upon her little helper, -and planned for her more leisure, to the end that Ida found herself in a -new world, the world of music and refinement. - -One of the homes opened to her was Billy’s. Mrs. Bennett and her daughter -often asked the girl to dine, and in delicate ways assisted her, lending -books, suggesting reading, and helping her with bits of sewing. - -During one of these visits she met Mrs. Schmitz, who had been invited -with her two protégés to hear the quartette sing; and unknown to herself -Ida acquired a new and ardent friend in the bright German woman. - -Mrs. Wright discovered that Ida could sing, not in a trained way but in a -true, sweet voice “placed” by nature; and she asked her frequently to the -house, giving her many valuable lessons. - -These occasions were often on Friday afternoons, when she would stay to -dinner and to the “quartette practice.” Then it fell to Sydney to take -her home; and the friendship thus fostered was the best thing that could -have happened to him; for he was compelled to talk, and soon learned to -do it “the same as if she were a chap.” - -One day he was alone with Mrs. Schmitz in the lily house. They had worked -for some time in silence when she asked suddenly, “How old you think iss -Miss Jones?” - -“She said she was eighteen.” - -[Illustration: “Mine leetle Ida would be eighteen already”] - -A sigh that was almost a sob was her only reply, and she worked silently -for some minutes, when she said abruptly, “Mine leetle Ida would be -eighteen already.” She pronounced the name as if it were spelled Eda. - -“How old was she when--when she--” Sydney could not make himself finish -the sentence. - -“Last time I saw her she was five. But if she live or if she iss dead I -know not. Most times I think she iss dead. To think she lives makes me -crazy almost, for I do not find her.” - -“Are you still looking--hunting--” - -“Always. All the time I have men paid to hunt. But they do not find--her. -They say she iss dead.” - -Sydney was troubled at her distress. She continued her work, but he -saw tears falling on the plants she handled. He had never seen her cry -before. Tears embarrassed him; and he pottered about awkwardly, waiting -for her to speak, wondering if it would be more polite to “sneak” out of -the lily house, or remain and give some sign of sympathy. As a compromise -he turned his back and coughed apologetically, thoroughly uncomfortable. - -Absorbed in her thoughts she forgot him and time--which was passing so -slowly for him--till she needed his help in moving some fertilizer. When -they were both at work again she spoke. - -“I have never told you of mine family for it was too much sorrow to speak -of them. It iss for that I like not to see girls. Some people think I am -down on girls. Not so. To see them makes me think of mine leetle Ida. -Miss Jones iss a nice girl. I look at her last efening at Mrs. Wright’s, -look at her much; ant all night I think of her; I cannot sleep.” - -“That’s too bad.” Sydney wished he could think of something less inane to -say, but no words would come. - -“It was the shipwreck--when we came to America, three of us, mine -husband, leetle Ida, and mineself. All passengers they put in boats; -first the women; in the other boats some of the men. I went down the -shipside mit Ida on mine arm, but the sailors say,’No,’ ant take her -from me to give me again when I am in the leetle boat. Then comes the -captain’s call to put no more in that boat, ant a big wave takes us away, -ant I mitout mine baby go on the sea.” She stopped and turned aside. - -“Gee! That was rough!” If the words were not consoling the tone was, for -Mrs. Schmitz reached out and gave Sydney a grateful pat. - -“We came by another ship that took us on board. One other boat full of -people they save by another ship that newspapers say went to California. -Ant in that paper passengers say mine husband iss drowned in that third -boat. No one sees mine leetle Ida.” - -“Did you never hear any more?” - -“Not from her. I came by New York. I advertise, I wait--wait. I am all -alone; I speak leetle English. I think some days I am crazy. Then goes -the money. I see I must make some more. I come then to California, ant -there I hear that some of those people of the shipwreck have already gone -to Washington, so I come too.” - -“Was that long ago?” - -“Thirteen years already. I know something about plants, so I get a job -working here by a nurseryman, by name Walker. I do well. I make some new -flowers for him that make him much money. He dies four years ago already, -ant I buy this place from Mrs. Walker.” - -“Gee! You didn’t save all that money from your wages, did you?” - -She smiled. “No. I make one big--bluff some people call it; I call it -trust in God. I pay the leetle I have ant give a mortgage for the rest.” -She chuckled softly, ending with a sigh, the echo of the sorrow she had -combated with all her forceful, cheery nature. “Mrs. Walker--she thought -I’d never pay; but I have.” - -“What? Not for all of it?” - -“Yes. Since you came I got mine deed. Next thing iss to buy some new -furniture that iss not all the time fighting mit the colors.” - -Sydney looked at her with deeper respect. He knew the property was -valuable. “I can’t see how--other nurserymen make money, but not so fast.” - -She stepped nearer and laid her hand impressively on his. “Seedney, there -iss a secret--love.” - -He looked his wonder, his mystification. - -“Listen. I tell you. Plant, tree, insect, animal--all are God’s. His life -iss in all. He gifes all breath the same as man; that iss, life. Then all -are brothers; _nicht wahr_? I think so; ant so I do. I love mine leetle -plants same as if they could speak. I watch them close, every leetle -thing I see. I talks mit them; for that they better grow. That iss how -I can make new plants--what you say in English? create new colors, new -roses. Those I send to Germany; for them mine friends pay much money.” - -“Friends?” - -“Yes. Already I make many friends mit the nurserymen. I do most business -there because I write not the English goot, ant Germans like the flowers -grown far away.” - -“But I don’t understand about the love part of it.” - -“Hard that iss to explain in English. It iss like this. When you know -that God gifes life to all, when you think this all the time, sitting -down, rising up, night ant day, then all anger leafes you. Also the fear. -You kill nothing if you can help it, not even the snake. You love the -birds ant they sing for you. Bees will not sting you, nor dogs bite you. -All that iss nature turns to you mit love, ant from you gets help. If so -you feel toward plants, you see things otherwise you could not see; and -that makes you wise to breed, to make new plants to grow. I cannot tell -you; it iss one secret everyone himself must discover. Max already sees -it.” - -“But if we don’t kill snakes and bad things, they will kill us.” - -“Who says anything God makes iss bad? Let the snake alone ant he will -run. He flies away as fast as man comes; into the wilderness he goes. No -creature hurts things only when he gets afraid already. Even man iss goot -if he iss not afraid.” - -“But what about bad people? Grafters, murderers?” - -“They are seek people, crazy mit the drink or mit injustice, or mebbe -from the parents they get it. Most people are bad from fear. Fear that -they will not have enough to eat, or mebbe their children. Suppose you -have always plenty work and plenty money, and know it iss always to be -so; will you steal?” - -“I’d be a fool to.” - -“But suppose you are not strong, you work hard, cannot do so well as -the man next to you, ant have hungry leetle children; ant soon you get -discharged. Chance to steal some money comes, ant your leetle children -are hungry. What you do?” - -“I--I’m afraid to think of it.” - -“You see? We must not hate those people. We must love them, help them, so -they steal no more.” - -Sydney looked up quickly. “That’s what you did for Max; you trusted him -first.” - -“You have said it. Trust helps to success. You can make a man fail by -telling him he will; you can also make a man succeed by telling him he -will. After success comes plenty friends. Friends! That kind are like -flies, much in the way.” - -Sydney laughed, and just then the five o’clock whistle blew. - -“Mine gracious! So late already. Come. We’ll have dinner soon ant then be -ready for the musicale. Good iss Mrs. Wright to ask me. It iss living -once more to be mit people who make the music. Mine father was forty -years Herr Kapellmeister, ant he wrote much music.” - -They went in. All through the dinner and while dressing Sydney pondered -her life in the old country, wondering if, as Max believed, she really -had played before vast audiences, perhaps before crowned heads. Not that -crowned heads made any difference to democratic Sydney; but in Europe -that is often made the test of highest excellence. - -They found the Wright home lovely and fragrant as spring fields, banked -with wild green things the boys had brought from the woods, and starred -with dogwood blossoms and spirea. - -The night was warm enough for open windows, and when the three from the -nursery arrived many guests were present; and looking in from the outside -the scene must have reminded Mrs. Schmitz of something in her past, for -she stood still a moment on the porch, holding up her hand for silence. - -“It iss beautiful! Ant see! Miss Jones--she looks lovely in the efening -gown. Ah! She iss a goot girl! I know it!” - -Ida was near a window, wearing the same frock she had worn at Bess’s -party. - -Mrs. Wright was unprepared for the magnificence of Mrs. Schmitz, when she -swept down the stairway without her cloak. She wore a rich and becoming -gown remodeled from one of her old ones, and a few rare jewels. The long -train lent height to her massive body; and the lines of skirt and bodice -gave her an elegance that was entirely lost in the squat effect of her -ordinary severely tailored street suit. - -Sydney looked at her again and again. That day in the lily house she -had been wonderful; but tonight she was some one else he felt, and he -was shy about speaking to her. But Max was not; he paid her extravagant -compliments and with pride introduced her to his friends, and to Dr. and -Mrs. Carter. - -They belonged together, those two, Sydney thought; not because of any -physical resemblance between the slender, aristocratic looking boy -and the big woman, but because each possessed a spirit that compelled -attention, that won all, that was the essence of good breeding, world -wide. - -There was no bitterness in Sydney’s attitude now; he was beginning to -recognize the value of daily association with Max. - -The musicale progressed much as musicales usually do; yet for two people -it became the greatest occasion in the world. - -Toward the close of the program Mrs. Wright persuaded Ida to sing, -explaining to the audience the youth and inexperience of her “song bird.” -Ida’s simple ballad, sung without affectation in her fresh voice, pleased -them all and won an encore. - -She stood again and sang without accompaniment a plaintive German song, a -sweet, tender tune that lingered even after she took her seat. - -With the first note Mrs. Schmitz bent forward, lips parted, her wide eyes -fixed on the girl. Sydney, watching Ida, saw her look their way; saw her -countenance change, though she continued steadily to the end. - -But when he looked again at Mrs. Schmitz he knew that it was her face, -white as the dogwood blossom hanging above her, not his, that arrested -the singer’s eye. - -“Seedney!” the German said quietly as soon as the song ended, “you bring -Miss Jones to me--in the hall--no, on the porch, I must speak to her. It -iss of great importance. Hurry!” - -Still holding herself to quietness she rose and passed through the door -to the porch. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -Mrs. Schmitz was waiting in a deserted corner of the porch far from the -noisy company around the punch bowl; and when Sydney came forward with -Ida, she stepped toward them, reaching both hands to the wondering girl, -and asking in a tremulous voice, - -“Girl! Girl! Where learned you that song?” - -“I think my mother must have taught it to me when I was very little; I -can’t remember when I did not sing it.” - -“Your mutter--do you remember her?” - -Ida looked around startled, and again at Mrs. Schmitz. “Oh, sometimes -I think I can; a tall, lovely woman, not large like you. Then it -fades,--that picture, and I see nothing but darkness and--” She shivered. - -“Ant water?” Mrs. Schmitz volunteered excitedly. - -“Yes. How--do you know?” - -“How do I know? Because you are mine leetle Ida! Because mine father -write that song for you, and taught it to you. And it never was printed, -ant no one sings it but mine leetle Ida!” She smoothed back the girl’s -hair, and studied her face anxiously. - -“That’s true. No one sings it but me.” - -“Ant I was that tall woman; in America I grow fat.” - -“Ida! Ida,” the girl mused, giving the name its German sound. “They used -to call me so; I can dimly remember.” - -With one sweep of her loving arms Mrs. Schmitz took the girl to her -heart, so long hungry for her child. Ida, who had drifted from the orphan -asylum to one home after another, had found at last the mother for whom -she had so long prayed. - -It was the daughter who first noticed that others had approached. The -discovery of her mother had changed her whole future. In a moment, almost -in a breath, the shadowy hand of family relationship had reached across -the sea, bringing dim memories of her native land and speech; had given -her a family where before she had been a lonely waif. Yet, for this is -the way of youth, the present moment seemed the all important one to her. - -“_Mutterchen_,” she whispered, and knew not that she said “mother dear,” -in German; “they are looking at us.” - -The mother, older and wiser, looked both ways on life, to the past and -to the future. Not only had her heart massed the longing and sadness of -dreary years and flung it to the winds in this instant of glad discovery; -she was also planning for the future. No wonder she had no eyes for -people, time, or place; for anything but this miracle of happiness; her -child was found! - -But once recalled, her innate courtesy prompted the kind course. With a -long embrace that held the pent tenderness of years, she released Ida, -and they went quietly in. After the other guests had gone Mrs. Schmitz -told her story to the rejoicing Wrights, Max, and Billy and his mother. - -She wished to take Ida home with her that very night, but was surprised -with opposition. - -“I think I should stay where I am till the end of the semester. That is -only a week or so; and it will inconvenience Mrs. Patton for me to go -away now.” - -“But what will she do in summer time? Seedney tells me summer times you -work for money to buy your clothes.” - -“Yes, but that is all planned for. When school closes they are going to -the country; they have made their arrangements.” - -“So? Well, then I’ll hire a good servant to take your place.” - -Ida hesitated. It was a great temptation; yet her duty was clear, as her -mother could see by her decision. “A stranger would be a lot of bother -for such a short time. The little children would be afraid of her, and -the big ones wouldn’t mind her, and Mrs. Patton couldn’t leave the baby -with her, and--Oh, don’t you see? I want to be with you, but I must stay -where I am till vacation begins.” - -For an instant no one spoke. Mrs. Schmitz did not conceal her -disappointment, yet she did a strange thing. She rose from her chair -and drew Ida up beside her, gazing into her eyes, smoothing back her -hair, noting every feature of her small, expressive face. She saw the -loveliness there and her mother’s pride rejoiced in it; but she was -looking deeper, was singing in her heart a song of joy. - -“Mine child, for those words I love you more. Already you are like your -father ant grandfather. Also like mine goot mutter, so much to think of -others. You stay, yes; but I shall hire the Japanese boy to do much work -for you, scrub, clean, ant do things mit the dishrag.” - -She joked a little to keep back the tears, and saw Ida go away with -Sydney, while she started home with Max. - -Both were silent till they had left the car and were walking toward the -nursery, when Max said, with a cadence of regret in his voice, “I’ll -never find another home like yours in the City of Green Hills.” - -She whirled, blocking his way. “You are not going. You ant Seedney are -still mine boys.” - -“We’ll be in the way.” - -“Never! You are mine mascot. Seedney iss mine strong right hand. I got -plenty rooms. Don’t you see?” Under the arc light he saw her face beaming -with the joy of planning. “That’s what for I save mine best room mit the -porch; that iss now Ida’s. Ant we will have a quartette, four parts.” - -Inside the house they discussed that matter and many others, excitedly. -In imagination they refurnished the house, disputing whether pink or -blue would be nicest for Ida. Max and his new sister went through the -university, Max deciding his profession; and they were hotly debating -the question whether Ida’s voice could be developed into a high dramatic -soprano, or would only be a mezzo soprano, when Sydney came, Sydney, the -practical. - -“It’s half past two,” he warned. “Max, if you don’t behave, Ida will -lose her mother as soon as she’s found her. You gink! can’t you see our -mother-on-the-side is worn to a frazzle?” - -Mrs. Schmitz laughed and started toward the hall. “Goot Seedney!” she -called back. “Ida finds already two fine brothers; one, Max, to make her -fly mit the clouds; ant Seedney, to hold her to the earth, from which all -our life must come. She iss a lucky girl.” - -“The nursery is all right for the night,” embarrassed Sydney said by way -of changing the subject. “The temperature has dropped; I turned on the -heat for the orchids.” - -She patted his arm. “Goot boy! Goot night, two goot boys,” she said -cheerily in another tone, and left them. - -At school the silent prejudice against Max had shown itself in looks, in -subtle ways impossible to define, and in the fact that he was omitted -from some of the class affairs. Yet as the weeks passed he could feel it -decline. - -Billy was the best of friends. He told Max that all the “good ones of -the bunch” liked him from the day he went back to school and marched -boldly up to Walter in the presence of his special friends and said, “Mr. -Buckman, when one does wrong the only way he can atone is to make good -for it if possible, and live it down. I paid for the food I took, as you -know; and I intend to stay in Fifth Avenue High till I graduate. Some day -I may get even with you.” - -The words were not a menace. Max’s face and tone were kind, greatly -puzzling Walter. When he least expected it and in the most astonishing -way Walter was to acknowledge that Max was more than even. - -It was perhaps two weeks after the musicale that Max and Sydney were at -Billy’s, planning and rehearsing some of the details of Billy’s play. It -was well on the way toward presentation. He had worked hard, beginning in -early autumn, and revising again and again, till at last he had won high -commendation from his teacher of English, who had spurred him to write it. - -A committee from each high school in the city would hear it, and on their -joint decision rested the award of the prize. If Billy won it would be -for the honor of his school as well as for himself. - -Late in the afternoon Billy’s small cousin, Madge Price--little Miss -Snow, her brother Hec called her because of her white hair--ran in, -gesticulating wildly, scarcely able to speak coherently. - -“Quick! Come! It’s Dottie Buckman! She’s all swallowed up! She’ll be dead -in a minute!” - -Before she had finished, Billy swung her to his arm and ran out with her, -questioning as he went. Max and Sydney followed. Around the corner they -hurried to where the city, in the process of street grading, had made a -huge cut. - -Instantly they knew. All the children in the neighborhood played there at -“making caves.” Many little hands had worked far into the sand bank, easy -to dig yet damp and hard packed enough to stay in place. But at last the -root-netted crust above became too thin to support its weight, and had -fallen, imprisoning the little child in its fatal clutch. - -“Oh, oh! She’ll be all dead!” Madge cried piteously as Billy put her down. - -Heedless of her, the boys frantically tore at the earth with their -hands. Billy grasped the situation, as Max could see, while he snatched -at the earth with inadequate fingers. - -“Run, Madge! Tell mother, everybody! Tell them to bring shovels!” Billy -commanded, and sent out ringing calls for help in every direction. - -There were no men near at that hour, and only women came running with -every sort of an implement from a shovel to kitchen spoons; but they -worked as frantically as the boys. - -“Some one get a basin of water,” Max commanded. - -“Who’s going to stop to drink water?” Billy asked sarcastically. - -No one halted to answer, least of all Max. He had a fierce sort of -strength that outmatched sturdy Sydney and even big, strong Billy. He -drove his shovel deeper, piled it higher, and plied it faster than any -one else. The perspiration poured from him, yet he shivered with dread of -what they should presently see. - -“Out of my way!” he cried to a hysterical woman who ran in front of him, -and did no work herself. “Take her away, Billy!” he demanded in a voice -that would be obeyed, the long, rapid sweep of his arms never halting, -never slacking, indeed, moving more swiftly with each dip of the shovel. -He did not see or know that the woman slipped back at his first fierce -word. - -It seemed hours, in reality it was less than minutes, when a fragment of -a little skirt was uncovered. - -“Here she is!” Max shouted wildly; and the boys worked with more fury, -till presently three pairs of hands drew the limp little figure to the -light, apparently dead. - -[Illustration: “Here she is!” Max shouted wildly] - -A motor car was standing alone in front of a house near by. While they -were working, Max had noticed it and planned for it. - -“One of you run and crank up that machine. Quick!” he ordered. - -“I will! I know it; it belongs to one of the neighbors.” Billy was off, -shouting back as he ran. - -Now they knew what the water was for. Max plunged his handkerchief into -it, opened the little sand-filled mouth and wiped it clear; the nostrils -the same. Far out he pulled the small tongue. “Hold it so,” he directed -Sydney, while he continued with the cleansing water. - -The machine rolled up, and before it could stop, or hardly halt its -speed, Max with the child in his arms sprang in, Sydney behind him -carrying the basin. - -“The nearest doctor,” Max called, but unnecessarily, for Billy -understood, knew well which doctor lived nearest, and was already on the -way. - -Down the street they flew, heedless of the shouts of the irate owner -of the car, while Max and Sydney worked hard to restore breath to the -smothered child. - -Again and again Max dipped the useful handkerchief into the basin, -wiping off the little face. Gently he pressed down her chest and released -the pressure in even movements. - -“Why don’t you drive, Billy?” he called desperately. - -Billy was driving as he never had before, using every ounce of power he -could make. He too felt the wheels creep, and pumped the gasoline more -recklessly, while he went hot and cold at the thought of being too late. - -It was a beautiful afternoon and the streets were full of women and -children, sauntering or playing in the freedom and security of the quiet -residence district. In and out among them, honking and shouting, Billy -wove his perilous course, praying fervently if not consciously that he -might not kill one child while trying to save another. - -It was not till an officer swooped down upon him from a cross street that -he knew how fast he was going. In long leaps the galloping horse made -losing speed beside the machine, the officer shouting raucously at Billy -to stop, and waving his club with menace. - -“It’s life and death!” shouted Billy, driving on still faster. - -In a second more he was at the physician’s door; but not before the -anxious boys in the tonneau imagined they had seen a tiny flutter of the -little eyelids; thought they felt a faint lift of the bosom. Yet they -dared not hope; the motion of the car was deceiving. - -They were fortunate to find the doctor in, one of the few to keep an -office in the residence district. From Max’s trembling arms he took the -little one and laid her on the operating table, questioning while he -began a skillful examination, the boys watching silently, fearing yet -longing to hear his verdict. - -He took no time for words save a few commands when, needing assistance, -he forced something between her lips, drop by drop. - -In a moment they saw a movement of her lips. Presently they could see -her breath coming, and at last her eyes opened--opened slowly and closed -again, showing no intelligence; and Max looked anxiously into the -doctor’s noncommittal face, trying to read it. - -How the moments dragged for the watching boys! The doctor’s face grew -sterner with each second, and Max began to lose courage, keeping his eyes -from the other boys, when a soft moan broke the silence, and following -that, incoherent sounds from the stiff, sand-roughened lips of the child. - -The doctor straightened. His face relaxed in a smile. To the boys it -seemed as if he had been suddenly released from some dreadful ordeal. -Sternness melted in tenderness, and his hand had the gentleness of a -mother’s as he smoothed back the matted hair and spoke cheering words. - -“Hi there, baby! It’s all right now, little one.” - -Slowly the child’s gaze wandered from one to another, half frightened, -only half aroused. - -Billy thrust his head within her view. “Want to go home, Taddie?” - -That was Walter’s pet name for her and it further aroused her. She knew -Billy and feebly reached out her arms to him. - -“Yes, we’ll take her home,” the doctor said. “The sight of her mother -will be best medicine now.” With that they stepped into the car and drove -to Mr. Buckman’s house, arriving to find it in great commotion. - -Mrs. Wright and Billy’s mother had been out when the accident occurred; -but the story of Madge, who had been playing with Dottie, added to the -conflicting reports of the neighbors, had terribly frightened Mrs. -Buckman. She had telephoned the police department, called her husband, -and had their own physician waiting when the boys brought her darling -safely to her arms. - -The doctors joined in a further examination, while in an adjoining room, -by Mr. Buckman’s order, the three boys waited the result. They were still -under great tension, and restless while the tall clock ticked off the -interminable minutes, one by one. - -But at last the door opened to admit the men; and the boys heard a soft -sobbing, and the mother’s voice speaking a torrent of endearing words -over her rescued child. - -“Tell them--thank--Oh, James, you know what to say,” she called after her -husband in a voice tremulous with tears of joy. - -Before he could speak, Walter ran in, disheveled, haggard, and closing -the door, stood behind his father. - -“Tell me, young man,” the second doctor asked Max, “how it happened you -knew enough to treat that child as you did? But for that nothing could -have saved her. As it was, it was a mighty close shave.” - -“My father’s a doctor, and I have sometimes been with him on emergency -cases, and seen him work. Besides he told me a few things.” Max spoke -modestly in a voice weak from excitement and hard work. - -“He did more than that,” Billy put in quickly. “He worked at the digging -faster than any of us; he had twice the power of Mumps and me, though we -tried as hard as we could, and he thought of everything, and--” - -“We all did as much as we could,” Max interrupted; “if either one had -done less it wouldn’t have been enough.” - -“That’s true. Yet your knowledge of what to do after she was uncovered -saved the child. Mr. Buckman, thank him for your little girl’s life.” - -Max hung back and was about to speak again when Walter pushed forward and -caught Max by both hands. “I--I am the one who owes you everything, Max -Ball!” - -“It’s nothing,” Max objected, too upset to realize what he was saying; -“I--I guess I’m even with you.” - -Mr. Buckman stared at them wonderingly, and the two doctors waited a -minute in embarrassed silence, realizing that here was a matter quite -out of their province. With the promise of another visit later in the -evening, they departed, leaving Mr. Buckman gazing questioningly at his -agitated son. - -“Oh, you don’t know what reason you have to be ashamed of me, father,” -Walter burst out; “I’ll never be able to look you in the face again.” - -He told his story, how he had listened behind the portieres when Max made -his confession, how jealous he had been of Max’s popularity at school, -and the way he had revenged himself. - -“What? You that plucky chap that came here last winter?” Ignoring Walter, -Mr. Buckman strode forward and grasped Max by the hand. “I wondered what -had become of you. Now you cross my threshold again to bring my little -daughter who, but for you, would be dead.” He turned away. Stern and -proud, he could not trust his voice. - -For a moment there was absolute silence. Mr. Buckman still held Max by -the hand, while the rest waited for him to speak again, Walter with his -back to the others, his shoulders drooping, the figure of abject shame. - -“I want to see you in my office--soon; to-morrow. I want to talk with -you. A chap who can do the plucky things--” - -“It wasn’t any more than they did,” Max began, determined that Billy and -Sydney should be recognized. - -“Yes, yes, I know all of you saved my little girl; but only one sick, -neglected boy came alone to face me and make restitution for a fault. -That’s what I’m remembering now. I wish to God I had a son like that!” He -wheeled and walked rapidly out of the room. - -“Oh, father! father!” It was a desperate cry. Walter ran toward the door -but it closed in his face. He threw himself against it and, heedless of -listeners, sobbed like a heart-broken child. - -For an embarrassed instant the other three stood stock-still and looked -at the floor. They did not know what to do. Mentally numb from the strain -they had undergone, this added distress bewildered them. - -It was Billy who first roused to the proper thing. “Beat it, kids!” -he whispered hoarsely; and they scrambled out, leaving Walter quite -unconscious of their departure. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -That race with death for the life of little Dottie Buckman brought such -intense fatigue to Max that he did not that night think much about -what Mr. Buckman might have to say to him; but the next day the coming -interview mixed itself exasperatingly with books and recitations. He -built all sorts of extravagant plans for the future; scoffed at himself -for them, and was chagrined to find that the mere notion of good fortune -could so distract him. - -But when late that afternoon he was admitted to find Mr. Buckman busy at -his desk, his dreams seemed very foolish. The atmosphere of severity that -pervaded the office sobered him; and as the absorbed man did not look up, -Max seated himself quietly to wait till he should be noticed. - -At business the man looked the master he was. Power showed in every -movement of his broad hand; sternness in every feature of his large, -deeply lined face. He was one to drive important enterprises to success -against the greatest odds; the only kind of man who is able to conquer -the territory of the Northwest where nature, though lavish, makes harsh -resistance. - -Yet Max could read in that severe face love of justice, scorn of -pettiness, and pride of personal honor. - -When he looked up and saw Max the lines in his face broke from sternness -to pleasure and he rose and shook hands cordially. - -“I’ve been expecting you, my boy,” he said kindly, pointing to a nearer -chair. “I’ve thought of you all day.” - -It was a long conference. Mr. Buckman insisted on supporting Max while -he finished his education. He wished him to leave Mrs. Schmitz at the -beginning of the university year and go to a chapter house where he could -use all of his time for study and other student interests--no doubt -of Max’s ability to “make” a fraternity occurred to him. For this he -told Max he had already arranged to pay him an allowance of one hundred -dollars a month. - -Max was intuitive; was able in mind to spring forward to the future, -seeing at a glimpse all the long path to be traveled, as a bird, skimming -the ether high above the earth, sees the great panorama spread below and -her destination almost before she sets out. - -So Max saw that no matter how kind and generous Mr. Buckman might mean -to be, and really be, this course would bind Max to him for the future. -Though he should accept the offer as a loan--and his pride was robust -enough to allow it to be a loan only--he saw that deviation from the -man’s wishes would mean to him ingratitude, a breach of fidelity. - -It was to escape a similar situation that Max had run away from home. -Could he give a stranger what he would not give his father, who had so -much greater right to exact it--the absolute surrender of his own wishes? - -He found it hard to explain himself. Every argument he offered was met -by a stronger one. The financier was bent on doing something large and -splendid for the boy who had saved his child; and he would not accept -Max’s refusal. - -“Mr. Buckman, were you always rich?” Max asked, a touch of desperation in -his tone. - -“Indeed, no. I was a poor farmer boy--made every dollar I have.” The -pride of the self-made man was in his loud voice. “I carved my fortune -out of this land--the timber, the water power, its rivers and sea.” - -“What if some one, when you were a boy, had compelled you to take up -medicine, or the law, or to be a minister? Would you?” - -“By George, no! I wasn’t the sort for life in a chair. I wanted to be out -fighting things; would like to be outside now.” - -“Even if you had not gained riches you would have wished to have a voice -in planning your life, wouldn’t you?” - -“My boy, I don’t want to plan your life for you; I only want to help you -carry out your own plans.” - -Max was helpless. He felt Mr. Buckman’s present sincerity; yet he -knew that one who said, “Go!” or “Come!” to scores of men who obeyed -absolutely, would expect obedience from anyone who took his money. Deceit -would be the alternative. - -Suddenly he realized a little of the reason for Walter’s failure to -please his father; unlimited pocket money, the flattery of his fellows, -and the easy but fatal path of duplicity. - -At last Max spoke resolutely. “Mr. Buckman, something in me makes it -impossible to accept your offer. I don’t believe you yourself would think -as well of me if I did.” - -Surprised, the man looked steadily at Max a moment before replying. “I -believe you’re right, boy. You’re a new sort of youngster to me. Go ahead -in your own way. Only you must promise me this: if you ever need money, -for school or business, come to me. Will you? Will you promise that?” - -“If--if I need it pretty badly I’ll come. I’ll come before I have to rob -ice boxes.” They both smiled, and the tension was broken. - -After some further talk the interview ended, and Max left the office -knowing he had won respect instead of merely gratitude. It had been a -hard hour; and considering he had “turned down” a hundred dollars a month -he thought it strange that he should feel so buoyant. - -Whistling gayly as he walked from the car, he opened the door of his home -to meet a stranger, a small, quiet-spoken man with an inscrutable face, -who rose at once and held out a copy of the morning paper. “Are you the -young man mentioned here as Max Ball?” - -The paper had published a long, sensational account of the event of the -previous day, magnifying Max’s part in it, giving a garbled story of his -life in the city, and asserting that he would become the beneficiary of -Mr. Buckman. - -Max admitted his identity, but denied the closing statement. - -Question after question the man asked, questions that seemed apropos of -nothing at first; but they slowly, circuitously led to facts in Max’s -life that he had intended never to disclose. - -It seemed as if he were on trial for a crime he had not committed, and -was being proven certainly guilty. As often as possible he took refuge in -silence; but the man was able to compel speech, to make him tell all he -knew and more besides. - -“What is all this for?” Max importuned for the third time, when the man -was closing his notebook. - -“That I am not at liberty to mention.” - -“I’m all straight; honest, I am!” Max pleaded. “And whatever you think -you’ve found against me, I don’t want my--the lady here who has been so -good to me, to be drawn into it. I can’t have her troubled.” - -A slight change softened the inquisitor’s face. “I think we won’t need to -annoy her. Perhaps you are more anxious yourself than is necessary.” With -this he left Max to a long evening of distress. - -Mrs. Schmitz was dining out that night, and he fidgeted for hours, -wondering what the strange grilling could portend. But she was so late in -returning that he concluded he must not disturb her, and went to bed in a -ferment of excitement and bafflement. - -With the dark his worries loomed larger. Could it be possible that at -some place where he had worked things were missing, and at this late -day they were suspecting him? Wild visions of prosecution, conviction -on circumstantial evidence, and jail filled Max with terror, and when -delayed sleep finally came, they persisted in troubled dreams. - -The morning sun scattered his fears and a talk with Mrs. Schmitz wiped -them out; though when the ringing of the doorbell interrupted them, her -parting remark lodged a new idea, not a fear but an anxiety. - -“Don’t you be troubling about stealings you never did, nor police, nor -things like that. Some one iss hunting you; it will be your father!” - -It was Billy coming with a cheerful message, which he delivered without -the ceremony of other greetings. - -“Max, old boy, you’re it, all righty. I was over to see May Nell last -night. Mr. Smith was there, and I told him about what you did the other -day--” - -“What we did,” Max corrected. - -“No interruptions. May Nell had told him how Walter treated you and how -you stood it; and Mr. Smith said, ‘Tell that young chap to call on me. -I’ve employment and promotion for men of that stamp. Most anyone can make -good in the sunshine on a smooth road; but the man who plods alone in the -dark and uphill is the one I can trust.’” - -“He meant you, Billy. Mumps told me all about how Jim Barney treated you, -and how you worked all summer with robbery hanging over you because you -wouldn’t tell on a girl; and--” - -“Cut it! That’s ancient history. It was Mr. Smith I worked for, and my -job’s waiting for me whenever I want it. What I have for you is business -for today. Right now! This minute! Mr. Smith wants you to come to see -him. Understand?” - -“But I can’t go to work yet. Mrs. Schmitz--” - -“He doesn’t want you right away, only to chin with you a bit; to catch -you before some one else nabs you. He’s all the time looking for ‘young -timber well-seasoned and straight-grown,’ as he calls it, to put into his -business.” - -“How can he tell timber before it is tried out?” - -“That’s just it. He thinks you have been tried out.” - -Max pondered a moment, amazed by the many opportunities offering, by -the strange things happening to him. But back of all perplexities stood -a calm, strong figure, Mrs. Schmitz. And in contrast to the stress and -strain he knew he must meet if he went to work for Mr. Smith or Mr. -Buckman, he saw the warm, fragrant nursery with its mysteries of nature -ever inviting study, and busy, happy evenings with music, his goddess. - -It was but an instant that he was silent, his gaze fixed on the floor in -an abstraction that Billy respected though it seemed long to him before -Max spoke. - -“Billy, it’s jolly good of you to do so much for me; and kind of Mr. -Smith, too. But when he knows my plans I believe he will advise me to -stick to them.” - -“What are they?” - -“Work for Mrs. Schmitz till I learn her business as well as she knows it.” - -“What then?” - -“She wants me for her partner.” - -“Hooray for you! But you’ll have to give up your music.” - -“No; she wishes me to go on with that. She says music and flowers go -together, and that flowers will support me while I am conquering the -violin. After that she--she thinks I’ll do something unusual. I shall try -not to disappoint her.” - -“Gee! Luck’s coming your way all right. No, you’ve just gone and collared -the witch.” - -“I guess that’s the only way to win her.” - -They went away together to attend to many pressing matters concerning -the play, which was only two days off. And the hurry and excitement -pushed other disturbing thoughts out of Max’s mind till it was over, so -successfully over that it won the coveted literary prize for the Fifth -Avenue High. - -But the day after, when Max was tired and depressed from loss of sleep, -all his anxieties returned; and they were many, for he had imagined a -hundred different dilemmas behind that strange interview. - -He was playing softly in the cool parlor, trying to forget his worries, -when a tall, distinguished looking man was ushered in. Max turned, and -almost dropped his violin. “Father! Oh, father, you are ill!” - -“Not ill now--now that I have found you.” He held out his arms. - -Forgetting all his past resolves, Max threw himself into those open arms -and returned their close, passionate embrace. “Father! I’m so glad!” - -“My boy! You cannot be half so glad as I. Do you forgive me?” - -Max was astonished. His father asking forgiveness! “Don’t ask that! I--I -am the one.” - -“No. I was the older one. I should have been the wiser, known my son -better. All this long dreadful year that I have searched for you, I have -known that it was my unreasonable command that you should give up music -entirely and study law whether you liked it or not, that drove you from -home. It was my bitter lesson.” - -Max noted the thinner figure, the lines of sorrow in his face, and the -gray in his hair that had been shining black the last time he saw it; and -he understood a little of the grief that had walked by his father’s side -day and night for the longest year of his life. - -Mrs. Schmitz, hearing voices, came in and met Max’s father as a friend. -“I have been expecting you already. I knew you would be finding him, Mr. -Ballantree. Mine own daughter after thirteen years comes out of the sea -to me; much easier was it for you to find Max.” - -Briefly they discussed the search, coming soon to Max’s future. - -“What do you wish, my son? To stay here or come home with me?” - -How different was this from the heated words, sounding so terrible in -young ears, that had driven Max from home. “I’d rather see you dead than -a miserable fiddler!” the father had said, standing before his library -fire, and not looking up when his son left the room for the last time. - -Max told of Mrs. Schmitz’s goodness, her wisdom, and her business offer, -not omitting the future he hoped for with his violin. “But if you wish it -I will go with you and try to make a success of law.” - -The sad, careworn look came again to the man’s face, but before he could -speak Mrs. Schmitz broke in. “The law iss it? Will you ask him to that?” - -“No. I ask nothing of him, except that he shall try to be a good man -and--and love his old father a little.” - -His voice trembled, and Max went to him, putting his arm across his -shoulders. “I shall always do that, father. I think I understand you now.” - -“Ach! If fathers only would remember that when the goot God cuts out a -boy mit the pattern of a fiddler he iss not intending to make a lawyer to -settle fights. Mit music you settle fights better anyways.” - -“You are right. Mothers know best. His did, but I wouldn’t listen to her. -The boy stays with you, Mrs. Schmitz. You saved him.” - -When Mr. Ballantree left shortly for his eastern home it was to arrange -his affairs for removing to Washington, the state that Max chose for his -future home. - -THE END - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Billy To-morrow's Chums, by Sarah Pratt Carr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BILLY TO-MORROW'S CHUMS *** - -***** This file should be named 54749-0.txt or 54749-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/7/4/54749/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Billy To-morrow's Chums - -Author: Sarah Pratt Carr - -Illustrator: Robert Davison - -Release Date: May 20, 2017 [EBook #54749] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BILLY TO-MORROW'S CHUMS *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="center larger">Billy To-Morrow’s Chums</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus1"> -<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“Hello, young feller! What are you out of quod for?”</p> -<p class="caption"><a href="#Page_86">[Page 86]</a></p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="titlepage u">“BILLY TO-MORROW” SERIES</p> - -<p class="titlepage larger">BILLY TO-MORROW’S<br /> -CHUMS</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">By</span><br /> -SARAH PRATT CARR</p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Author of<br /> -The Iron Way, Billy To-Morrow, Billy To-Morrow in Camp,<br /> -Billy To-Morrow Stands the Test</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">Illustrated by</span><br /> -ROBERT J. DAVISON</p> - -<div class="figtp" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/mcclurg.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="Logo of A. C. McClurg & Co." /> -</div> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">CHICAGO</span><br /> -A. C. McCLURG & CO.<br /> -<span class="smaller">1913</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Copyright<br /> -A. C. McCLURG & CO.<br /> -1913</p> - -<p class="center smaller">Published November, 1913</p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">W. F. Hall Printing Company<br /> -Chicago</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table summary="List of Illustrations"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="right smaller">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>“Hello, young feller! What are you out of quod for?”</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus1"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>“Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus2">12</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>She was in evening dress</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus3">132</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A premonition of disaster swept him</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus4">138</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>“Mine leetle Ida would be eighteen already”</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus5">164</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>“Here she is!” Max shouted wildly</td> - <td class="right"><a href="#illus6">188</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<h1>Billy To-Morrow’s Chums</h1> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">The night was dark, the darkest he ever -knew, Sydney Bremmer thought as he went -his rounds to see if the place was in order. When -first he came to live with Mrs. Schmitz he had -to take a lantern; but now he was so accustomed -to the narrow, soft lanes that led up and down -the nursery between close rows of shrubs and -flowers, and to the passages in the greenhouses, -that he could “feel his way,” as he could in the -same way tell when the temperature was right.</p> - -<p>As for the little furnace, its own cheerful light, -when he opened the doors to fill the fire box and -bank the fire, not only showed the way to the -coal bin, but sent long streamers of genial light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -into the black night, and flooded the boy’s face -with a weird color that made him look like a -fire spirit.</p> - -<p>Once between noises he thought he heard -something under one of the plant shelves, and -called to see if it was the dog, Blitzen. No dog -appeared, and everything seemed to be in place. -Thinking he had been mistaken, Sydney closed -the furnace, fastened the greenhouse door, and -ran through the nursery gate to the porch, where -he put out the milk bottles and patted Blitzen, -saying good night in the silent, boyish fashion -that the dog well understood.</p> - -<p>As he entered the kitchen, very quietly he -thought, a woman’s voice called from above, -“That you, Seedney? How late you sit up.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Had trouble with my geometry. -Everything’s all right.”</p> - -<p>“So? Good! Sleep forty miles the hour till -breakfast. I’ll call you. Think of nothing but -rest. Good night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sydney returned her good night, mounted the -wide stairs, and passed through the long hall, dark -as Erebus but for a faint gleam under a door, the -one leading to Mrs. Schmitz’s room. Always her -tiny night light sent its friendly beacon to Sydney -through the window as he came round the house -from his rounds in the nursery.</p> - -<p>His room was warm from the comfortable -stove; and light from the student lamp lent an -air of refinement to the chamber not in keeping -with the cheap furnishings.</p> - -<p>But Sydney did not mind the cheapness of -things. The pine bureau and bedstead painted -gaudily, the table with pitcher and bowl that -served for a lavatory, the cheap chairs and cotton -carpet, chromos on the wall and nails in the -closet—these makeshifts were luxury to the lad -who had known continuous hardship in his newsboy -days after the great fire in his native city, -San Francisco.</p> - -<p>This warm nest was a haven of peace and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -comfort. Towels and sheets were soft and clean, -the blankets fleecy and warm, and the pillows the -very home of sleep for a head that had long -pillowed on a roll of papers.</p> - -<p>And on those nails in the tiny closet was the -luxury of a best and a second best suit; on -the table books and papers, with permission to -study or read as late as he pleased. When he -entered his den, set the stove roaring, and settled -at ease in his old cane “rocker,” a peace and -satisfaction filled him that could well be the envy -of the richest millionaire living.</p> - -<p>This night, chilled from his errand in the cold, -he looked around with renewed appreciation. -He wound his nickel clock and turned off -the alarm. At first he had disregarded Mrs. -Schmitz’s injunction to sleep on Sunday morning, -believing it his duty to be on hand for the -early work that knows no holiday. But she was -a woman of authority, and Sydney had long ago -found it as necessary to obey her orders for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -comfort as for those concerning his work. As he -became better acquainted with the lonely, eccentric -woman, he was more than willing to heed -her wishes.</p> - -<p>One of these was that he should sleep with -windows wide open. To-night the inrush of cold -air drenched from the salt Sound took the sleep -from his eyes and sent the quick blood to his -brain; and with it a hundred ideas that came -tumbling over one another for notice.</p> - -<p>The most important matter was a growing -puzzle to him: why the girls at school would not -treat Ida Jones, who worked for her board, as -well as the boys treated him, who worked for his -board.</p> - -<p>Of course she was a junior; yet when he had -been a junior he had found no such battle to -fight. Suddenly he remembered his friends, -Reginald Steele, Hec Price, “Sis” Jones, and -Billy To-morrow—good old Billy, who had -always been his friend since the day on the coast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -steamer when Billy interceded for the stowaway, -Sydney. A word from any of these was as good -as a proclamation from the whole of an under -class.</p> - -<p>Yet for Ida it was not the same; she had -something quite different from a boy’s troubles -to fight, wholly feminine and mysterious.</p> - -<p>A bright idea came—he would ask Bess Carter -about it; she was sure to set “something -doing” for Ida; and if she did the other girls -would promptly fall in line.</p> - -<p>But how could he accomplish it? To speak to -a girl, even bluff, common-sense Bess, had come -to be a pain during the past year. He could not -understand it; hated himself for it, and spent -long silent hours when he should have slept, composing -brilliant dialogues between himself and -some girl, only to slink by the first time he met -her. Even a word from lonely Ida, whom accident -had thrown in his way, set him in a panic.</p> - -<p>How long he lay living over his vivid school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -life, building youth’s air castles, he did not know. -He thought he had not slept, yet started suddenly -at the sound of soft footsteps at the other -end of the hall, and quickly rose and looked out -of his door.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz with a lighted taper was standing -at the head of the stairs, listening. Her hair -hung in a long braid, and the straight lines of -her heavy kimono disguised her large figure and -gave her a weird stateliness that made Sydney -think of some serpent-bound goddess from old -mythology.</p> - -<p>He slid into his slippers, pulled around him the -spread from the bed, caught up the poker from -under the stove, and hurried to her.</p> - -<p>“What is it,” he whispered, “a burglar?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing, I guess. What you up for? I -catch him mine self.”</p> - -<p>Both listened intently. The stillness lasted so -long that Sydney thought her mistaken, when a -sliding sound came from below.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You stay here,” he whispered; “I’ll go -down.”</p> - -<p>“No, you don’t! I won’t have you killed all -alone. I come too.”</p> - -<p>“Blow out the light then. We must see him -first,” Sydney ordered. “Got any matches?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she whispered.</p> - -<p>Silently they crept down the stairs.</p> - -<p>On the stairs Sydney planned. “You stand -at one side of the kitchen door and when I call, -light the candle so I can see.”</p> - -<p>“But he may catch you first, hurt——”</p> - -<p>“I know the kitchen and he doesn’t. Do as -I say, and we’ll get him.”</p> - -<p>The house was large and two closed doors -were between them and the burglar. Sydney -was wondering if he could open them quietly, -when Mrs. Schmitz stepped in front of him and -noiselessly threw open one of them while he was -thinking about it. From under the pantry door -came a thin gleam of light.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<p>“He thinks to find silver. He iss fooled.”</p> - -<p>Sydney could hear the laugh in her words -although they were whispered. “Stay here,” he -ordered, and before she knew his intention, he had -turned the key in the pantry door, and was hurrying -out of the kitchen to barricade the pantry window -from the outside.</p> - -<p>But she had come to the end of obedience. She -flew after him, heedless of noise, caught and held -him back, saying excitedly, “Not for anything -shall you go out there. Mebbe more come.”</p> - -<p>From pure astonishment rather than obedience -he paused an instant, when the light vanished -from under the door, and some one ran into the -dark room.</p> - -<p>Both rushed after him, laid hold of him, and -dragged him to the floor.</p> - -<p>“Go away! He may have a gun. I’ve got -him fast,” Sydney cried.</p> - -<p>“Ant if he has a gun we will take it away,” -the woman answered pluckily, still keeping her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -weight on the prostrate figure. “You hunt for -it, Seedney.”</p> - -<p>The man, trapped, fought fiercely for liberty. -It was a silent struggle there in the dark. They -knew not what moment a light, or a gun from a -confederate, might be flashed upon them, yet -thought not of yielding.</p> - -<p>Neither of the out-flying hands held a gun, -Sydney discovered, and between blows he tried -to reach the man’s pockets, but without success; -partly because the valiant German woman managed -to keep her bulk well over him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly all strength left the culprit. In an -instant his body grew limp and he resisted no -more. “I give up. I haven’t any gun,” came -in a hoarse whisper, followed by a cough that -shook the woman now calmly sitting on his back.</p> - -<p>“Seedney, find the clo’es line; in the storeroom—we’ll -tie him; then let him get up.”</p> - -<p>Sydney lighted the lamp and quickly brought -a rope, with which they bound him as he lay, face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -downward; and when Mrs. Schmitz with difficulty -regained her feet she ordered him to rise.</p> - -<p>To their surprise he lay motionless and silent -except for the cough he tried to suppress. They -waited, Sydney wondering if the man were -only feigning; Mrs. Schmitz suspecting his -exhaustion.</p> - -<p>“Go, quick, and telephone for the police. I’m -a match for him now.” Sydney lifted his poker -threateningly, though afterward he smiled, remembering -how thorough was their work of -tying.</p> - -<p>But the woman’s keen eyes had seen something -that arrested her. Though the man made no -attempt to obey, she saw him tremble, saw his -shoulders lift; heard his indrawn, convulsive -breath, and knew what it meant. Much quicker -than she had risen she dropped on her knees -beside him, a mother’s tenderness in her rich -voice.</p> - -<p>“Look at me! You are sorry! Almost you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -could cry. No bad man does that when he iss -robbing—when he iss caught. He fights, or -mebbe he says damn. You are no bad man.”</p> - -<p>She laid her hand tenderly on his head and -tried to see his face; but he still held it to the -floor, fighting his cough. He wore a thin suit -much too large for him, and his shoes were -broken, showing his bare feet.</p> - -<p>“Get up, man. Whatever robbing you have -done you find not much money, I guess.”</p> - -<p>Before he could move, a violent spasm of -coughing shook him pitifully. She turned, -caught up the spread Sydney had dropped, and -threw it over him. “Watch him till I come -back,” she called, and ran out through the dining -room, surprisingly fast for a heavy woman. -“Tie him in a chair, and make a fire, Seedney,” -she added in a high voice from the hall; and in a -moment they heard the stairs creaking under her.</p> - -<p>“Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered, pushing -the kitchen “rocker” toward the other.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus2"> -<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“Get into this chair,” Sydney ordered</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<p>Painfully the man obeyed, disclosing a face -gaunt from hunger but as youthful as Sydney’s -own, and a slender, emaciated frame.</p> - -<p>“Gee! You’re just a kid, too. What’re you -up against?” he questioned as he put the kitchen -door key in his pocket and locked the window. -“You don’t look the housebreaker part one little -bit,” he continued, and began to build a fire.</p> - -<p>“I’m certainly an amateur; this is my first -appearance,” the youth returned in a husky -voice.</p> - -<p>“You’ve queered yourself with this audience; -why did you try it?”</p> - -<p>“No home, no work, no money, and everybody -afraid of me—tuberculosis they think I have.”</p> - -<p>“Have you?”</p> - -<p>“I think not; but I soon shall have it if I don’t -find work and enough to eat. I haven’t slept in -a bed for a week; no money for ten days.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! That’s hard luck. I know how it is -myself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What? You? She’s too good a mother for -you to be talking of hard luck.” In spite of -weariness he smiled his incredulity.</p> - -<p>“Mother, nothing! Mine is dead. She’s a -good one though. And I’m in out of the wet -now all right. But it was different when I was -a San Francisco newsy, sleeping over bakery -gratings.”</p> - -<p>The other boy stared at Sydney enviously. -“How did you come through so—so to the -good? Chicken fixings and a gentleman’s sleeping -outfit?” He eyed Sydney’s neat pajamas -and slippered feet. “Gee! I’d be glad of as -good as that for the day time.”</p> - -<p>Sydney had set the lamp on a table near the -other boy, and his pale face was sharply revealed. -When Mrs. Schmitz, hastily dressed, entered, he -looked up appealingly, but said nothing and -dropped his head again on his breast.</p> - -<p>“Mine goodness! You’re only a boy!” she -exclaimed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Did you call the police?” Sydney asked.</p> - -<p>“No policeman yet. I want to talk mit him -first.” The captive stirred uneasily. “When -have you something to eat?”</p> - -<p>“Night before last. That’s what—what I -came for—I couldn’t stand it any longer.”</p> - -<p>“Ant also you freeze.”</p> - -<p>“No. Three nights I have slept in your greenhouse. -It’s warm there and——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes! Too warm and too wet for coughing. -No longer you will sleep so. Seedney, get -him that one coat you don’t wear any more, and -other warm clo’es you have. I buy you more. -Ant yourself dress; pretty soon you also will be -coughing.”</p> - -<p>Sydney added some light wood to his fire and -hurried to do her bidding, coming again in no -time, it seemed to him; yet in those few minutes -Mrs. Schmitz had hot milk ready and savory -food steaming on the stove.</p> - -<p>Still obeying her, Sydney untied the boy’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -hands and then puttered about the room, bringing -the kitchen dishes to the table, keeping busy that -the other chap might not feel himself watched. -Yet Sydney did not let his eyes wander far; his -street training had made him wary.</p> - -<p>“Put on more dishes, ant also the good ones -with knifes from the dining room. We also shall -eat mit the company. It iss now already past -two o’clock ant I myself am hungry.”</p> - -<p>Neither Sydney nor Mrs. Schmitz appeared to -think it strange that they should be calmly supping -with one they had just caught and thrown—one -who still sat tied to his chair.</p> - -<p>She coaxed the stranger to tell his story. It -was little different from the many; untrained, -without friends, and consequently the first to be -set adrift in slack times.</p> - -<p>“It is only work I need,” he finished.</p> - -<p>“Why have you no work? You have parents, -ant home?”</p> - -<p>The boy nodded and hung his head. “My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -father is living, not my mother. But I—I can’t -go home. I——” He looked up fearlessly.</p> - -<p>“I cannot tell you why, though it is nothing to -be ashamed of. Only I—I can’t go home. If -I could get work I would not steal. But if you -have no work, what can you do?”</p> - -<p>“You shall have work, sure!” she exclaimed -earnestly. “Pretty soon; when you say good-by -to that cough. By me you shall stay till you eat -much and get strong. Then I will find work for -you.”</p> - -<p>He looked up, startled. “You will keep me—Max -Ball,—keep me here in your house, -when I have—have tried to rob you?”</p> - -<p>“Well, why not? You only need to eat. I -also must eat; if not from my own dish, then—from -some other man’s.”</p> - -<p>“You—you trust me?” He could not seem -to understand.</p> - -<p>“See here, boy. You cannot steal from me. -No man takes from me one little thing only it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -iss something I ought not to have. You already -have tried it once. Did you get away mit the -goods?” She laughed as if it was a good joke, -while the boy still stared.</p> - -<p>“You think that iss funny; it iss this way. -You come here to rob me, ant you fail because -some one—the Great One—iss seeing you. -You have tried hard as you can to do right; but -you are full of cold, hunger, lonesomeness; you -cannot see life iss good any more. So the goot -Gott im himmel sends you to one old woman -who iss not afraid, ant she has enough for one -boy more. You stay by me?”</p> - -<p>The warmth, the steaming food that all at -once made him faint, the welcome where he had -expected, if not rough treatment, certainly arrest, -and especially the kindness that recalled the memory -of all a loving mother could be,—these were -too much for him; he sobbed like a child.</p> - -<p>“Get the salt, Seedney!” Mrs. Schmitz cried; -“you are stupid to forget!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sydney knew well this hardness was only assumed -to shield the other boy. Looking from the -pantry he saw her go swiftly behind the captive, -put her big arm round his shaking shoulders, -and smooth back the tangled dark hair. But her -words were rough; she knew it was a dangerous -time for sympathy.</p> - -<p>“Stop this already! By me nobody cries. -Everybody laughs. Keep still the shoulders, I -tell you! They pump up and down like a windmill -in a big wind. Also like old windmills with -rust on ’em; I can hear ’em squeak already. -Stop the noise mit your mouth and put something -in it.”</p> - -<p>So she rattled on with rude words, but her -hand never ceased its soothing, hypnotic motion -above the too white brow; and in a moment it -seemed to Sydney the boy was quiet, and she -had unbound him.</p> - -<p>“Seedney, will you stay hunting salt till to-morrow -already? What keeps you, dumkopf?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sydney’s face was flushed when he entered. -He did not relish being called a blockhead even -in German. And back of that resentment was -another emotion he did not then recognize—jealousy. -This fly-by-night, this sneak thief, -was to come right into the family, to share what -he, Sydney, had so long enjoyed as all his own.</p> - -<p>A little sullenly and noisily he put the salt-cellar -on the table. Mrs. Schmitz, looking up, -caught the meaning on his face. At the moment -she forgot that Sydney’s feeling was natural; -forgot that a boy cannot understand the instinct -that makes the mother ready to sacrifice the child -that is safe for the one that is in danger.</p> - -<p>“Go you, Seedney, bring some wood. It iss -cold here as north pole.”</p> - -<p>Sydney was gone longer than necessary. He -knew that she was gaining time for the stranger -to recover calmness. The boy outside looked in -from the darkness angrily at first, but more -kindly as he saw the waif, little by little, melt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -under kindness, answer questions, and begin to -eat. And when he finally entered, chilled by the -biting cold into a more generous spirit, it was to -hear the end of a compact: the stranger lad was -to remain, and, as soon as he was well enough, -he was to help in the greenhouses. He looked -calm, even happy.</p> - -<p>At that instant a soft, clucking noise from -the outside arrested them.</p> - -<p>The boy’s face went ashen. He started up. -His eyes filled with remorse, looked mournfully -upon them as if he were taking leave of a dying -dear one, and he caught up the freshly cut loaf, -and rushed out through the door.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been the meanest fellow going!” he -cried as he ran. From the door he called back, -“Thank you both! Good-by!” and vanished.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">For a moment the two in the kitchen stared -at each other, speechless; but the moment -was short. Whatever might have caused the -sick boy’s departure, Mrs. Schmitz was not one -to have her hospitality scorned.</p> - -<p>“Never mind what you think,” she sharply -reproved Sydney, who had ventured to voice his -distrust of the midnight prowler. “I looked -once in his face. He iss now a good boy. If he -goes once again to cold ant hunger, he——” -She broke her speech and called into the night, -“Blitzen! Blitzen!”</p> - -<p>No dog came bounding to her, but a faint -whine was heard somewhere outside. She caught -up the rope that had held the stranger, and, heedless -of thin slippers, ran into the wet dark, calling -Sydney to follow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<p>They found the dog tied to the fence, his jaws -strapped together.</p> - -<p>With many endearments of hand and speech, -the latter in German, she unbound him, led him -to the kitchen door, and made him smell of rope -and chair. “Seek! seek! Find him! Hold! -him!” she commanded.</p> - -<p>The dog sniffed doubtfully a minute, growled, -and with a short bark, set off through the gate -and down the street.</p> - -<p>“You also, Seedney! Run! Catch up mit -Blitzen. He’ll find that boy, ant you bring him -back. No matter what he says, bring him.”</p> - -<p>The run was short and led scarcely a block -away to a vacant lot, where Sydney found the -other boy prone on his face in a thicket of young -sallows and wild blackberry.</p> - -<p>Evidently stunned from a fall, he was mumbling -incoherently and Blitzen was nosing him -doubtfully. Even the dog had his scruples about -attacking a fallen enemy. Sydney turned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -lad over, trying to learn what had happened, and -was debating the next thing to do when Mrs. -Schmitz puffed into the zone of excitement.</p> - -<p>“Ach! Here he iss! Hooray, Blitzen! Good -Blitzen!” She gave the dog a caress that took -the drooping doubt from his tail and set it high -over his back, a waving plume of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>They soon had the stranger on his feet and -back in the kitchen. He seemed willing to go, -and quite calm but reticent, evidently perplexed -as to Mrs. Schmitz’s motive in compelling his -return.</p> - -<p>She did not hurry him, but busied herself -about the room; gave the dog some food, and -piled the dishes together, Sydney helping. Presently -she turned to the boy, decision in her face. -“You come now mit me up stairs ant have one -bath ant go to bed. To-morrow you shall talk -mit me.”</p> - -<p>He stood suddenly erect. “No, tonight—now -I shall tell you what—what you must know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -before you keep me in your home another hour. -Before this I have robbed a few ice boxes—taken -things to eat. But this time I came to get -money, jewels, anything I could find that could -be turned into money. I had the dope, too.”</p> - -<p>“Dope?” she questioned as he hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I was going to put you to sleep, so -that I could have time to—to go over the house. -You see I’m green at the work, and Jim—my -pal—said that was the only way I could pull -off the stunt.”</p> - -<p>“Ach! So? Two of you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He is an old hand.”</p> - -<p>“Why did he send you? Why comes he not -himself?”</p> - -<p>“He said the police were on to him. If I was -caught I could get off easy because it was my -first offense and I am young. Besides it isn’t -safe for the one that—that steals the goods to -try to raise money on them.”</p> - -<p>“So?” It is impossible to describe in words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -the changes the German woman could ring on -that one little word. It could mean doubt, incredulity, -surprise, joy, sorrow, pity, trust, love, -and more.</p> - -<p>This time it meant scorn. “So? You take all -the risk. You give him the goods, ant he gets the -money! It iss one fine scheme! When did you -fall in his trap?”</p> - -<p>“Today—yesterday, I mean,” he glanced at -the clock that marked the hour of three, “when -I was hunting work, hungrier all the time, I got -angry. I said if a man wants work and can’t -get it, at least he ought not to starve. Going to -jail would save him from that.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll give you better to eat than any chails,” -Mrs. Schmitz broke in with a laugh.</p> - -<p>Sydney saw the ghost of an answering smile -on the lad’s face, and knew that was what she -wished.</p> - -<p>“When I went back to—to the place down by -the water front where he hides in the daytime,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -he made this proposition that—that I tried to -carry out—and failed.”</p> - -<p>“But why you choose my place? I’m not -rich.”</p> - -<p>“A man paid you fifty dollars last evening, -there in the greenhouse, didn’t he?” She nodded. -“I was there, saw it, and hurried off to tell him. -We came back in time to look through your -dining-room windows and see you at dinner. -Gee! It looked good.” He hesitated a breath, -and indicating Sydney, went on. “He was feeding -the dog things I could have fought for.”</p> - -<p>“Seedney, no more shall you feed Blitzen at -the table.”</p> - -<p>“Something like frenzy came to me then, and -I said, ‘I’ll do it! I will have some of that -dinner!’”</p> - -<p>For a time the kitchen was absolutely still. -Then Mrs. Schmitz said abruptly, “Still you tell -me not why you run out mit mine bread.”</p> - -<p>The boy started up. “Don’t you see? He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -was hungry too. There I was eating a splendid -meal in your kitchen and he was out in the cold. -I had forgotten him, a pal that had helped me -as long as he had a cent. The noise—our signal—recalled -me, made me ashamed, and I—I -did—what you saw.”</p> - -<p>“But how came you down, hurt, lying mit the -scratching vines?”</p> - -<p>“He—he was mad. He said I had queered -the whole game, and he was through with me. -But he would put me to sleep first so I couldn’t -tell which way he went.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz rose. “It iss enough. You come -mit me. One good hot bath mit plenty of soap -shall wash away the thief, outsides and insides. -You sleep one night in my house; to-morrow we -talk.” She walked across to the boiler and -touched it. “It iss hot. Come!”</p> - -<p>Blitzen started up and licked her hand, at -which she cast a quick look of distrust at the boy. -“Did you tie up mine dog?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No. Jim did.”</p> - -<p>“Ach! So? He iss a goot dog. Come.” -Her face beamed with good feeling as she led -the boy off to minister to him as his own mother -might have done.</p> - -<p>Sydney returned to his room to sleep out the -remainder of the night; but sleep did not come -quickly. The last thing he heard was Mrs. -Schmitz’s cheery “Sleep goot” at the door of -the best chamber. And with that up leaped again -in Sydney’s heart the demon, jealousy.</p> - -<p>The best chamber! There were two others -untenanted. In all the months since his coming -he had not once questioned the generosity of his -hostess because he had the most meanly furnished -chamber in the house. Indeed he knew very -little of the great rambling structure that had -grown like the chambered nautilus, by larger and -ever larger additions. It was just as Mrs. -Schmitz had bought it. Glimpses through open -doors revealed nothing to Sydney’s untrained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -eyes beyond a succession of beds, rugs or carpets, -and chairs. But he did know that the large -room over the living room opened upon a spacious, -wisteria-hung porch and was called the -best chamber; and he resented its possession by -the thief.</p> - -<p>It was after nine when he opened his eyes on -a brilliant morning, the winter sun streaming -into the room with the warmth of May. He -hopped out and dressed hastily, whistling gayly, -his yellow humor quite forgotten till Mrs. -Schmitz appeared asking for clean underwear -and other articles for the new comer.</p> - -<p>“We will give him the best we have, Seedney, -till he iss well. Seek people don’t like rags nor -dirt.”</p> - -<p>Silently and not very readily he selected from -his own ample if not elegant wardrobe the pieces -she asked. Perhaps it was not strange that he -was ungracious. He had fought for his crust -and disputed the wall side of a warm grating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -with others in as desperate case as himself; and -that does not breed readiness to welcome newcomers -of doubtful character.</p> - -<p>Yet Sydney himself was puzzled by this emotion. -He had never grudged things before. He -had usually been ready to share the crust he -fought for. Why could he not feel kinder to this -boy, Max? Thoroughly ashamed, he determined -to discipline himself.</p> - -<p>At the late breakfast the boy told more of -himself, yet nothing that revealed his past; and -his hostess did not ask it, but pressed the good -food on him, as pleased to see him eat as if he -had been her own son.</p> - -<p>“Already are you better!” she exclaimed, -delighted, as they rose from the table. “Not -once have you coughed.”</p> - -<p>“I’d be ill-bred to disturb such a breakfast -with coughing.” He made a little bow and -stepped back for her to pass.</p> - -<p>Sydney could see that the speech, the bow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -everything Max did with such an air of elegance, -was quite natural, quite unconsciously done. -And in the parlor where every Sunday morning -after breakfast Mrs. Schmitz and Sydney sang -together, the new boy proved by every word and -movement that he had been born to a refinement -that Sydney believed beyond his own greatest -effort to acquire.</p> - -<p>Here as all over the house the furniture was -incongruous, though, differing from that in Sydney’s -room, it was expensive and modern. But -three things stood for culture; the grand piano, -a violin in its case, and a mahogany music cabinet -filled with music.</p> - -<p>“You can sing?” she questioned; “or play -the violin?” she added, seeing his glance fixed -upon it.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t much of a voice, but I used to play -a little.”</p> - -<p>She crossed the room to take the instrument -from its case, but stood motionless for a moment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -her back to the boys, her hands hanging limp. -When at last she did bring it to view, her hands -were trembling. Each touch was a caress; and -when she adjusted the bow and placed the violin -in position to tune, Sydney heard her sigh.</p> - -<p>But when she handed it to Max her face was -serene and her voice steady. “Try it. Mine -father’s it was; I have many years ago played -the piano for him. When he died they sent it -to me mit much music ant mine fine dresses I -wore in Germany.”</p> - -<p>Max took the violin with a reverence that -pleased her, and tried the strings with delicate, -accustomed fingers. “It is a fine one, a Cremona!” -he added with an excitement Sydney -saw no reason for; he didn’t know one fiddle -from another.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Schmitz did. She knew much about -music, instruments, and composers. And here -was some one else who could speak the same -language, and with his instrument too, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -Sydney could see by the way he tuned it and -played little snatches of this or that, while she -nodded and beamed.</p> - -<p>“Ach, goot! Your hant ant head ant heart -sind all one mit music!”</p> - -<p>From under the shelf of the cabinet she drew -a pile of violin music and began to run it over -rapidly, pronouncing the foreign names with no -more ease than Max, who caught a passage from -one, or hummed a snatch from another; and -presently they were speaking in German, both -excited, gesticulating, happy.</p> - -<p>Sydney was as much out of it as if the language -were Hindoo. In school he had done well. -Through the interest of Mr. Streeter, a young -man recently come into a fortune, who devoted -it and his time to assisting boys who were otherwise -on the way to being “down and out,” and -through the kindness of Mrs. Schmitz, Sydney -had been able to press on in his grades. Now at -the beginning of the winter semester he stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -with Billy Bennett, “Sis” Jones, Queen Bess, -and all the others who made his world, seniors -in the “Fifth Avenue High,” side by side, -respected and liked.</p> - -<p>But suddenly Sydney realized in the presence -of this stranger, so sinisterly introduced into that -quiet life, that there was a great area of culture -for which no public school can issue diplomas. -As a child speaks its native tongue nor knows -when he learns it, so Max spoke the language of -refined society, of an early home environment -that comes only from generations of good breeding -and comfortable income.</p> - -<p>Sydney’s eyes were opened in another quarter. -He had always found kindness and understanding -in Mrs. Schmitz, and that exquisite -neatness that is the mark of a gentlewoman; -but he had not seen behind her eccentricities. It -had never occurred to him that the industrious -woman who spent her days with pots and flowers -had once lived differently. Though her fingers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -had brought marvelous music from the ivory -keys, he had not seen far beyond the split nails—marks -of her toil.</p> - -<p>Now he saw! And he suddenly knew she had -met a kindred spirit.</p> - -<p>“Come, Seedney,” she called half an hour -later; “we’ll sing now our songs.”</p> - -<p>If she had not gone and taken his hand he -would not have stirred, so foreign to them did -he feel. But she must have divined that, for she -pulled him forward, and not without pride in her -tone, said, “This iss mine only pupil. Some day -he will make me very proud.”</p> - -<p>They sang a number of simple songs, ending -with some hymns, Max adding a rather thin -voice while he played the air, or again, some delicate -obligato.</p> - -<p>“You have a splendid voice,” he said heartily -to Sydney when Mrs. Schmitz finally left them -together. “Four or five years’ work would put -you on the stage—if you care for that.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I never thought of it. Something else would -fit me better, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! She’s great, isn’t she?” Max said -under his breath, nodding toward the door where -Mrs. Schmitz had disappeared. “How is it she -is just drudging—cooking, washing dishes? -She should never use her hands but to play.”</p> - -<p>Sydney looked again at the stranger. Some -vague notion he, too, had had in regard to Mrs. -Schmitz’s past, when she must have been taught -by masters and spent long hours at the piano; -but it never occurred to him that she was out of -place in a new city, “running” a greenhouse and -working twice as many hours as her men did. -But this boy who had crept in at her pantry window -to steal from her, through one half hour’s -music, understood her better than Sydney in half -a year’s sojourn in her house. The discovery -gave him a feeling of inadequacy, as if he had -been unkind to her, had failed in fealty to her.</p> - -<p>Max toyed with the violin a little longer;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -looked over the music, now and then drawing a -breath of sweetness from the strings, and speaking -a running accompaniment all the while, so -easy in word and movement, so fluent, that each -moment he became more and more an enigma to -the other.</p> - -<p>Sydney found himself telling freely the little -he knew of Mrs. Schmitz, her kindness to him, -her generosity, her many eccentricities, one of -which was her aversion to girls. “She can’t bear -even to hear about them.”</p> - -<p>“Did she ever have a daughter? And where’s -her husband?”</p> - -<p>“She’s lost both.”</p> - -<p>Before Max could reply he was shaken with a -paroxysm of coughing, the severest of the morning, -yet light compared with those of the night -before, so much had warmth and food done -toward banishing the spectre, tuberculosis.</p> - -<p>“Come upstairs with me while I do up my -room. I’ll do yours too this morning. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -that we’ll get out in the sun; that’s the best -medicine you can have.”</p> - -<p>“Do—do up your room? Do you make -beds?”</p> - -<p>“Why not? Do you think I’d let her?”</p> - -<p>“No—no, of course not. But why doesn’t -she have a maid?”</p> - -<p>“She has a woman to wash and clean two or -three times a week.”</p> - -<p>“She—she does all the rest? And takes boys -to board?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Sydney was having his eyes still more -opened. “The work in this house is nothing; -she spends most of her time in the nursery.”</p> - -<p>Max followed his leader upstairs, asking no -more questions, but watching Sydney, astonished, -as he went deftly through the morning -work. Once or twice Max moved a chair, or -tried to help with a blanket, but his awkwardness -was so apparent that he laughed at himself.</p> - -<p>“How did you learn?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<p>“She taught me.”</p> - -<p>“But this isn’t boys’ work any more than -washing dishes.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? Doesn’t a boy sleep in a bed and -eat his food from dishes? Why shouldn’t he do -such work if it’s to save some one better than -he is? Mrs. Schmitz for instance?”</p> - -<p>“That’s right. But doesn’t it make you feel -a little—sissylike?”</p> - -<p>“The manliest chap I know, Billy To-morrow—Billy -Bennett—isn’t ashamed to do any sort -of work to save his mother and sisters. They -used to be poorer than they are now.”</p> - -<p>Max said nothing for a time. Then he broke -out with, “How did you come to this snug berth -anyhow?”</p> - -<p>Sydney told him that Mr. Streeter had seen -Mrs. Schmitz’s advertisement of a good home -for a boy who would be steady, do a little light -work, and be company for her at night. “She -wasn’t afraid, never was; but she told Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -Streeter she wanted some one to look at across the -table when she ate.”</p> - -<p>Max went to the window and looked out a -moment, then he whirled and strode back to Sydney. -“Here! Show me how you do everything! -I will learn—beat you to it pretty soon—if I -can.” He laughed almost joyously and Sydney -felt only sincerity in it. “I’m going to accept -her offer of a home till I get over this cough; -but it shall not be for nothing. If I can’t render -service for value received, I’ll—” His face -darkened to a thought Sydney saw he had entertained -before. “I’ll put this mug where it won’t -need feeding.”</p> - -<p>“Shut up! You’re no quitter. Put a few of -her good dinners into you, and you’ll be ready -to buck any game coming.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you. But it won’t be her dinners -alone; it’s herself. She radiates something good -besides food.”</p> - -<p>Sydney clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -glad you like her. I am not able to speak of her -as you do, but I—I think she’s the best ever.” -He turned away, ashamed that he could not find -words to say what he wished. He seemed the -more dumb because of Max’s fluency.</p> - -<p>“Is this the way you do the trick, Mr. Blanket-slinger?” -Max asked, catching up a sheet -and flapping it wide but crookedly over the -mattress.</p> - -<p>“No. It’s wrong side up and end to.”</p> - -<p>“How do you tell that?”</p> - -<p>Sydney showed him the right side of the hem -that came uppermost, and the wide hem designating -the upper end of the sheet.</p> - -<p>Max thanked him and carefully flung the -other sheet to place.</p> - -<p>“That goes wrong side up. Turn it over.”</p> - -<p>“For the love of Inverarity, why?”</p> - -<p>“Right sides go together.”</p> - -<p>“Why? Does one side of a sheet feel any -different from another?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It does to her. Anyway there’s a reason, -it’s the right way. I never asked her why.”</p> - -<p>“I will then. I want to know all about it.”</p> - -<p>They finished up the two rooms and Max proposed -to “do” Mrs. Schmitz’s as well.</p> - -<p>“No. Here’s where we stop. I don’t go -into her room any more than if it was in another -house.”</p> - -<p>Max stared at him a second and nodded comprehendingly, -when they went down and out -into the sunshine.</p> - -<p>“How strange to see the grass green and the -trees budding in January.”</p> - -<p>“Strange? Then you come from the East. -It seems queer to me not to see flowers everywhere; -and it’s awfully cold up here.”</p> - -<p>“Is it so warm in California?”</p> - -<p>“In spots. You can find all the climates -there. I never stepped on snow till I came here, -to the City of Green Hills; and there’s very -little here.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>They walked up and down the narrow paths -in the nursery, examining the sprouting cuttings -growing in close rows, and the long heaped rows -of earth where the bulbs would soon send forth -their green shoots, Sydney freely giving of his -small fund of information.</p> - -<p>Suddenly from the farther end where the -nursery abutted against a vacant block well hidden -under a thick young forest growth, a voice -hailed them, and a sinister face peered from -behind a fir tree.</p> - -<p>“Come with me, or I’ll make it hot for all -that outfit you’re with, you—” He ended -with unprintable oaths.</p> - -<p>“That’s he! I must go! If I don’t he’ll -hurt her—rob—or burn!” Max gave Sydney -a look of utter disappointment and started off.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">Before Max could go more than a few -steps Sydney pulled him about. “What? -Going without saying good-by to her? Even -I have more manners than that.”</p> - -<p>“But she won’t let me go if I tell her. I—you -must——”</p> - -<p>“No matter. You come with me.” Sydney -turned, and calling to the man who had withdrawn -behind the leafy screen, “He’ll see you -later,” drew Max, resisting, along with him. It -was not unpleasant to Sydney to feel his -superior strength; to know this one advantage -over the boy who unconsciously proved himself -superior in so many ways.</p> - -<p>They went in and told Mrs. Schmitz.</p> - -<p>“You be not afraid. Stay by me. If he -comes we are three—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, no! It is you I care for. He may set -fire—”</p> - -<p>“Shoo out of this! You do what I tell you. -I have here no leetle boys not minding me. In -there iss books; go to ’em. After dinner we’ll -talk.”</p> - -<p>She intended no slang as they knew; and a -rich odor came from the Sunday dinner already -on the way. Memories of cold and hunger and -dreary wanderings decided Max. “Thank you,” -he said, and went into the sitting room. “To-night -I shall not sleep but watch.”</p> - -<p>“And I with you,” Sydney endorsed earnestly, -throwing a glance that was fonder than he -knew in the direction of her who was in both their -minds.</p> - -<p>In the quiet afternoon Mrs. Schmitz tried to -banish Max’s fear of the skulking prowler. “I -will tell the police of him.”</p> - -<p>“No, no! Please don’t. He will make them -take me too.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, that also may come true. We will let -the policeman be.”</p> - -<p>“Yet you still have the money in the house.”</p> - -<p>“Also I am not afraid.”</p> - -<p>“But I am for you.”</p> - -<p>“Forget me. Yourself, not him, you must -consider.”</p> - -<p>“Myself?” Max was mystified.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Suppose you steal from me fifty—even -five dollars, or one. It iss only money. I -do not cry. I do not starve, have shame. But -you?”</p> - -<p>“I go to jail,” he said after her significant -pause, his eyes downcast.</p> - -<p>“You do worse. You steal from yourself. -You steal not money but much more, your innocence. -With fifty or five dollars you have yourself -a new name bought—thief! No money -buys that word back. It makes one long, bloody -cut into your soul. Before it gets well you have -a very long time in the hospital of work—if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -you have the good luck to find that hospital. -Before you have paid back to yourself that fifty -dollars worth of self-respecting, you have great -shame and sorrow mit yourself.”</p> - -<p>Max did not speak, and she busied herself in -making orderly the book-littered table.</p> - -<p>“When you steal to eat I call you not a -thief; hungry creatures are crazy. Ant I judge -not anybody. Yet I think so long as you are -afraid of thiefs you have still some robbing in -your heart. What you think?”</p> - -<p>Max fidgeted in his chair, rose, walked to the -window, and looked out into the sunshine for a -second, then he turned back to her, looking fearlessly -in her eyes. “Last night I was a thief! -But today—now—I am not. The wound is -there, in my soul certainly; and I’ll carry the -scar always, I know that. But there’ll never be -another.”</p> - -<p>She caught his hand in both her own and her -smile was good to see. “Goot! I belief you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -Have no more fear. By me you stay, get well, -go to school mebbe. <i lang="de">Nicht wahr?</i>”</p> - -<p>“If I stayed at home I would have graduated -from the high school in four months. I’d like to -go again. But first I must earn some money.”</p> - -<p>“You need no money mit me. Before you are -strong to work you can study.”</p> - -<p>“You are so good to me. Yet I need some -money right away. I—”</p> - -<p>“Iss it much? I can lend you some.”</p> - -<p>“No, no! I must not borrow it; I must earn -it. Is there no light work in your nursery I -could do at once?”</p> - -<p>She smiled. “All people look for light work. -That iss—skilled work. Mine leetle plants, -like tender child, must be very gently touched, -ant mit love. If you like I’ll teach you.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you. But if you have the trouble -of teaching me it will be some time before I shall -be worth wages. I’ll think about it.” He -turned away still perplexed, knowing she saw it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<p>But whatever she thought, she encouraged him -cordially. “We’ll talk no more of this ever, till -you yourself ask me. Now you have one thing -to do, make friends mit health. Then I think -iss time to make money.”</p> - -<p>He thanked her again and was silent for a -time, appearing to read; but when he and Sydney -were alone Max divulged his immediate need for -money. “I’ve got to pay something I owe—just -got to.”</p> - -<p>Sydney hesitated, trying to see with the other -boy’s eyes. “I know how you feel. All the -time I was rustling papers—on my uppers most -of the time—I had to keep thinking of my -father’s rule of life, ‘No Bremmer ever takes -something for nothing.’”</p> - -<p>“I should say that was a mighty good rule.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but a mighty hard one sometimes. If -it hadn’t been for that I guess I’d have gone -bad more’n I did. Anyway I’ve slept hungry -many a night because of it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve taken something for nothing; -and that’s what I want to wipe out of my life.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! I bet Pop Streeter can do the trick -for you. Good old Pop.”</p> - -<p>Max asked about Mr. Streeter, and Sydney -explained. “He’s to the good on every count; -and I have a hunch he can do something for you. -Ever play in public?”</p> - -<p>“No; only for my—for friends.”</p> - -<p>“Well, there’s a new moving-picture-show -house going up near the Fifth Avenue High. I -know the man that’s building it; he owns another -show down the street, the best shows in town he -has,—even the teachers approve them, so you -can see they’re O. K. Well, the way you pet -those fiddle strings I bet you can play for him.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you for so much confidence in my -ability.” There was a faint hint of patronage in -his tone.</p> - -<p>“No confidence in you,” Sydney returned a -little sharply. “My judgment’s worth nothing;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -but Mrs. Schmitz knows good music, and when -she praises a musical guy he has to have the stuff -in him; I’ve lived here long enough to learn -that.”</p> - -<p>“How soon will the house be finished?”</p> - -<p>“The opening is advertised for a week from -next Friday. Mr. Fox wants a special program -of music. You come with me to see Mr. Streeter -to-morrow—I’ll make the appointment right -now.” He hurried to the telephone without -waiting to learn Max’s wishes in the matter, but -Mr. Streeter was not in.</p> - -<p>Max showed relief. He had not Sydney’s -initiative, born from the life of the street, where -advantage must be seized the instant it appears; -though Max could think and act quick under -great stress.</p> - -<p>Sydney, undiscouraged by several failures, -reached Mr. Streeter late at night and made an -engagement for Max for the next evening.</p> - -<p>Max, advised by Mrs. Schmitz, took the violin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -What occurred during that interview Max never -divulged. Max resented a little Mr. Streeter’s -keen questions, though later he realized that they -meant only justice to Mrs. Schmitz, whose kind -heart sometimes overruled her judgment.</p> - -<p>Max knew his reticence in regard to his family -prejudiced Mr. Streeter against him, but held -to his course; and in spite of this was able to leave -a fairly favorable impression. This was increased -during an evening at Mrs. Schmitz’s home, when -the two musicians won him with their art; and -Max’s bearing then counted still more in his -favor.</p> - -<p>Each passing day left visible improvement in -his health. His cough decreased, his cheeks -filled, his color was better, and his step was no -longer languid or nervously rapid. Every apparent -symptom of tuberculosis that might have -frightened the ignorant was vanishing, and on -its heels came a courage to meet life that Max -had almost lost.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<p>When they read of the apprehension and conviction -for a term of years of a thief that Max -recognized as the “pal” that had sworn vengeance, -the lines of unboyish care left his face, -and he began to whistle at his work.</p> - -<p>Sydney did not know how deep an impression -his simple motto, “Never take something for -nothing,” had made upon Max, who had thought -the opposite, “Take all you can get and give as -little as possible,” was the law of business from -day laborers to railroad wreckers.</p> - -<p>He did not know that business is built upon -an idea, confidence; that the commercial life of -the nation would have failed, and surely would -fail, were not the majority of men honest, and -willing to let the “other fellow” also make something.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz read what was passing in his -mind and encouraged his attempts at helpfulness. -At first he did not see that his efforts were -awkward; her kindness disguised that. By the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -time he was skilled enough to realize his failures -he was no longer sensitive about them. -When in his experiments in cookery he salted the -soup from the sugar jar, he laughed with the -others and ate his own plateful to the last bit.</p> - -<p>Mr. Streeter’s good words and Max’s own skill -easily won him a place on the program for the -opening night of the theater. And he did so -well that the manager signed a contract for two -weeks, which resulted in more money than he had -seen for many months. Some of it he tried to -pay to Mrs. Schmitz, but she refused it.</p> - -<p>“Just a little, won’t you? Make me feel less -a beggar?” he coaxed.</p> - -<p>“First you pay what—what you say you -must—” She hesitated.</p> - -<p>“There’s more than enough—to do—what -I must before I can go to school, or even work -for you.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz showed no curiosity concerning -this thing that was shadowing him, but instead<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -gave him trust and encouragement which he felt -in all she said or did. When he was able to set -at his task he knew he would never have had the -courage but for her.</p> - -<p>This took courage for it was nothing less than -an attempt to pay for stolen food. It was a -rather quixotic scheme perhaps; but the thought -was born of his serious talk with Mrs. Schmitz. -He believed he could never wipe out the stain of -the name of thief, till he had made restitution.</p> - -<p>He knew well the places where ice boxes on -open porches had tempted him; there were three. -He planned to go boldly to the front door and -ask for the gentleman of the house. Already he -had learned the names of the householders; -learned the dinner hour at each place. He would -go immediately after that, before anyone would -be leaving or arriving.</p> - -<p>He had two reasons for selecting this hour, the -man would be at leisure, and it would be dark. -Max would not be plainly seen. He hoped that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -the hall lights would be dim also. It would be so -much harder to go in daylight and thus brand -himself in the eyes of those who otherwise would -never know he robbed them. But sending money -in a letter seemed cowardly. Now that his conscience -was roused it compelled him to the extreme -course.</p> - -<p>At the two first places all went as he had -planned. At the summons of the maid the man -came to the door, showed surprise at the strange -request, refused at first to accept pay, but finally -did so, compelled by Max’s perseverance.</p> - -<p>The third night it was different. A stripling, -evidently the spoiled son of the household, insisted -on knowing the business that demanded -his father’s attention.</p> - -<p>“It’s private.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing private from me. Come in and spit -it out. I’ll do just as well as the pater; he’s -resting now.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll come another night,” Max said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -and was turning away, when a heavy voice called -to them.</p> - -<p>“What’s wanted there; don’t keep that door -open. Ask him in.”</p> - -<p>“All right, dad. You hear?” the supercilious -youth said to Max. “You’ll have to come in.”</p> - -<p>And Max, not knowing what else to do, -entered the spacious hall, hat in hand, hoping if -he kept still the man would appear.</p> - -<p>He did not. Instead he called again: “Bring -your friend into the library, Walter.”</p> - -<p>There was nothing else but to obey. Through -the doorway as they approached Max saw a child -start up from a low seat beside her father and -come toward the two boys, a beautiful little girl -of six or seven.</p> - -<p>“Come with me, kitten,” the young man said, -a tenderness in his tone that surprised Max. -“Dad has business on hand, Dottie.”</p> - -<p>She ran to him catching his hand in both of -her own, and danced beside him as he slowly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -crossed the room, which was small but richly furnished -and lined with well-filled book cases.</p> - -<p>A fire crackled cheerily, and a large man, -with slippered feet to the blaze, lounged in a -deep easy-chair.</p> - -<p>He looked up interrogatively, waiting for Max -to speak. The boy did not know this for an -insolent trick of “cute” business. Ensconced -in his own lair, this moment of inhospitable -silence on the part of the magnate was in itself -an accusation, a test of strength, with a handicap -on the newcomer.</p> - -<p>The boy felt keenly this slap on the face. A -quick glance at the visibly inquisitive youth, however, -restored Max a trifle, for he felt quite his -equal. Yet he had to summon all his “spunk” -to open his dry lips and speak.</p> - -<p>“I have a little business with you, Mr. Buckman; -may I speak to you alone?”</p> - -<p>“Walter, go and tell your mother to be ready -in ten minutes, or we’ll be late. Now what is it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -young man?” he questioned a little impatiently -as the others left the room.</p> - -<p>Max told his story; told it under the pitiless -glare of many lights; told it haltingly, shamefacedly; -and he was angry at himself for doing -so badly. Why could he not speak up clearly, -fearlessly, as he had spoken before?</p> - -<p>The man looked him over silently. “So you’re -a thief, are you?” he said scornfully. “A fool -to boot, I should say. Why in thunder did you -blurt it out? Why didn’t you keep quiet, and -if you must pay conscience money, send it -through the mail?”</p> - -<p>“Because I <em>was</em> a thief! I thought then I’d -rather steal than starve. But a kind woman -made me ashamed of that. It is not so much to -pay you, sir, what you never could have collected, -as to regain my own self-respect that I did not -send the money, but came myself to pay it.”</p> - -<p>The man looked at him keenly, plainly interested -now, but was still silent; and Max felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -himself probed to his last thought. “That took a -good deal of courage,” the man said at length. -“How much do you think you owe me?”</p> - -<p>“You must be the judge of that.” He told -what food he took.</p> - -<p>“How do I know that is all?”</p> - -<p>Max flushed. This grilling burned his soul. -“You could ask your cook. It happened three -weeks ago last Thursday night.”</p> - -<p>The man smiled. “I guess you’re straight. -What do you think the stuff is worth?”</p> - -<p>Max’s temper was up. Depressed at first, he -was angry now, and answered the man a trifle -defiantly. “In business the man who pays does -not set the price, but the man who sells. In this -case I am at your mercy. You can have me -apprehended on my own confession, and whatever -I say now will prejudice you against me. -The food I took measured by the value of the -peace of mind I shall have when I know it is paid -for, is worth more money than I shall be able to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -earn in many years. Measured by its cost to you -I have no means of knowing its value because I -only saw a little of it.”</p> - -<p>“How is that?”</p> - -<p>“I snatched all I could carry, gave most of it -to one hungrier than I, and ran as fast and as -far as I could.”</p> - -<p>“Then you were really hungry? You did not -rob for fun, or hoping to find more valuable -stuff?”</p> - -<p>“Fun! I cannot conceive of anyone doing -that.”</p> - -<p>The man was considering. “Hungry! As -a boy I don’t remember when I wasn’t hungry. -But I always had three square meals with -‘pieces’ besides. How long had you gone without -eating?”</p> - -<p>“Twenty-four hours.”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you get work?”</p> - -<p>“Have you any work I could do?” Max -inquired eagerly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>Taken unawares the man fell into the trap. -“No. Business is slack and I am pushed to -keep my men busy as it is. Even had to discharge -some.”</p> - -<p>“That’s your answer, sir. I have hunted work -for two months.”</p> - -<p>“Got any now?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and a prospect of its being permanent. -The lady I told you of will teach me the nursery -business if I’m not too stupid to learn; but she -insists that I shall go to school at the same time.”</p> - -<p>“Does she know—of what you are doing -now?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir. When I go home—” Suddenly -something swelled in his throat and for a second -he could not go on. Home! It was a home; and -Mrs. Schmitz, more than a benefactress, gave -him the affection and understanding of a mother. -“She knows I am—that I have stolen things,” -he went on haltingly; “but she trusts me; and I -shall tell her that I have—have made good—if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -you’ll let me. Won’t you please give me the -chance, sir?”</p> - -<p>“By George, I will! You’ve got the stuff -for a real man in you. Suppose we call it square -at a dollar?”</p> - -<p>“That’s not enough.”</p> - -<p>“It is if you gave away most of the food. I -won’t take pay for what the other fellow ate.”</p> - -<p>Max saw that it was best to yield though he -was not easy as to the sum; but he handed over -the dollar and turned to go. The man rose and -went to the door with him, shaking hands -cordially.</p> - -<p>“You’ve done a plucky thing, young man; -and before you are in the way of having to steal -again for lack of work, come to me at my office.”</p> - -<p>He gave street and number as he walked -down the hall to open the outer door, and probably -did not hear, as Max did, a faint footstep -and a rustling of the portieres as they passed -along.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>All the way home Max speculated on that furtive -noise; but quite forgot it in the joy of -the sense of freedom that came when he met -Sydney and Mrs. Schmitz, and knew he had -the right to look them fairly in the eyes.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">That furtive, rustling noise in Mr. Buckman’s -dimly lighted hall haunted Max for -days, filling him with a vague uneasiness he called -foolish, but could not forget. Yet after a time -youth and returning health relegated the memory -to some niche in the mind’s storehouse; and life -became full of interest and wholesome occupation, -driving out apprehension.</p> - -<p>A little more than a week after his engagement -at the “show house” had terminated, and -he had made the senior class at the “Fifth -Avenue High,” Billy Bennett’s ringing voice -came over the wire.</p> - -<p>“Is Mumps there?” it asked, and Sydney -heard it across the room.</p> - -<p>“Tell your friend a better name to call you; -that is a sick one. I smell the drug store now!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -Mrs. Schmitz laughed as she put down the -receiver and started out.</p> - -<p>“Billy To-morrow can call me any old name; -he’s all right!” Sydney shouted after her; and -into the telephone he cried, “Hello, Billy To-morrow! -What’s up today?”</p> - -<p>“The Queen says you’ve turned her down. -She’s all fussed up because you refuse to come -to her party. She can’t think what she’s done to -disquiet you.”</p> - -<p>The Queen, otherwise Bess Carter! The one -girl of all girls for Sydney. Yet he could never -hold up his head when she spoke to him; and if -he saw her coming he always edged away.</p> - -<p>“She’s done nothing but all right, Billy. -She’s always to the good; but I—I—oh, hang -it! You know, Billy, I’m no girl’s guy.”</p> - -<p>“Rats! You don’t have to be a girl’s guy to -go to her party. Haven’t we all played together -as kids? Roughed it together at camp, and -worked together at the school rallies? It’s just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -a chin-fest along the same old lines with a little -music and dancing thrown in; a lot rather. And -she wants the quartette.”</p> - -<p>“Gee!” Sydney said no more, but his inflection -carried assent.</p> - -<p>“All right. I thought you’d see it that way.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t said I’d go,” Sydney broke in.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you have. You’re not the laddie -to spoil the Queen’s evening by breaking up the -quartette, the feature she’s most counting on, -she says.”</p> - -<p>“If I go will you help me to ask a question of -Bess?”</p> - -<p>“Sure, what is it?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you when I see you.”</p> - -<p>Billy did not misjudge his friend, though he -could have no conception of the agony of bashfulness -Sydney endured at merely the thought of -meeting a lot of girls in their evening frocks.</p> - -<p>“You know I’ve no glad rags for evening, -Billy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No matter. You have good enough. None -of us are going in for opera hats and patent -leathers; that is, only the Fussers. Will you -come to dinner with me tonight and stay for -rehearsal?”</p> - -<p>“All right. Thank you. Say, Billy! Hello, -Billy!”</p> - -<p>“Hi, there! Thought you had finished,” Billy -returned after a slight wait. “Hello!” he called -again as Sydney did not answer.</p> - -<p>In that hesitant moment Sydney decided to -abandon his intention of asking an invitation for -Max. With his airy, sophisticated manner, his -good looks, his playing, Max would be sure to -win the heart of every one present. And then -his cough—really he was not well enough.</p> - -<p>Thus jealousy argued; but in that flashing -instant between Billy’s first and second “Hello,” -Sydney caught himself up; called himself a -selfish, “pin-minded brute!”</p> - -<p>“Jealous! That’s what I am. Because I’m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -short and thick instead of slender and elegant as -Max is; have mud-colored hair and no-colored -eyes instead of a face clear and dark, with eyes -that can talk without help from lips or tongue, -as his can, I’ll cut him out of a good time! -Mumps, you’re a last season’s egg!”</p> - -<p>“What’s that you’re rumbling. Is your -tongue weak today?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing, Billy. I was giving myself a dose -of mental ipecac, had something N. G. in my system, -but it’s out now.”</p> - -<p>“Well, in your state of good health what’s -next?”</p> - -<p>“We’ve got a—I mean I’ve got a friend -here, you met him, Max Ball. He’s a violinist, -a regular high C, Mrs. Schmitz says, a good -looker and actor. May I bring him along?”</p> - -<p>There was a word in reply, a short wait, and -Billy’s voice came again. “It’s all right. -Marms says bring him along, and sister says tell -him to bring his violin.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<p>Max received his invitation in silence; a silence -that piqued Sydney. “If you don’t care to -meet my friends, say so. I’ll tell Billy to count -your plate off,” he said roughly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t take it that way. I appreciate the -courtesy, believe me. Yet—ought I to accept? -Suppose they knew—all about me, would they -ask me just the same? Is it fair to them for you -to take me?”</p> - -<p>“Gee! I never thought about that,” Sydney -mused, glancing at Max with new respect.</p> - -<p>“Does Mrs. Schmitz know your friends?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. She thinks they’re fine folks.”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll ask her.”</p> - -<p>Questioned, she too, thought a moment before -replying, her eyes fixed on the doubting one. -“Max,” she began seriously, “I have belief in -you. I feel sure you will make goot. Sydney -shall tell his friends that you are one dear friend -of me. I stand for you.”</p> - -<p>Max gazed steadily back at her a second, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -laid his hand on hers. “Thank you. I shall not -shame you.” The words were simple but Sydney -felt the earnestness in them; saw the moisture -in the dark eyes, and turned aside to hide -his own. He, too, was won, and promised himself -to believe in Max always.</p> - -<p>This was Max’s introduction to the delightful -home where Billy Bennett and his mother lived -with his married sister Edith and her husband, -Mr. Wright.</p> - -<p>Through the dinner, which was perfectly -served, Sydney watched Max with an envy he -despised but could not conquer. Every word -and move of the stranger lad proved that he had -found his own. The way he spoke to the ladies, -the confident, unconscious but correct use of the -silver, a matter that made Sydney turn red with -anxiety; Max’s low and different yet kind tone to -the maid; his easy yet modest attitude toward -Mr. Wright—everything was just right, Sydney -acknowledged to himself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - -<p>How did he come by it? Sydney felt he could -not in a thousand years acquire such a manner; -and at the same time it seemed just then the one -thing on earth worth having. Poor Sydney did -not know that many boys, even some reared in -comfortable homes, are harassed in their years of -development by a similar diffidence. He thought -it was caused entirely by his lack of training.</p> - -<p>He could see that Max won them all, especially -Mr. Wright, with whom he talked intelligently -on current topics; and Mrs. Wright when they -touched upon music, as well as Billy’s mother -when she asked of Max’s own, and he replied that -she was dead. Sydney could remember his own -mother only dimly. He had not such a passionate -love for her as he detected in Max’s low reply -that was in no different tone from his other -words; yet its indefinable intensity told volumes -about his heart feeling.</p> - -<p>After dinner Billy’s sister carried Max off to -the piano and they had what Billy called an orgy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -of music, neither paying much attention to the -rest in the room.</p> - -<p>Mr. Wright went to his den, and Mrs. Bennett -disappeared, leaving Sydney alone with Billy. -They settled among the cushions on a window -seat where twinkling lights on the Sound below, -as well as sharp little whistles, revealed the coming -and going of many small steamers, part of -the Mosquito Fleet that connects a thousand -miles of Sound shore with the metropolis, the -City of Green Hills.</p> - -<p>The moon sent a silver track across the dark -water, and the distant, fir-fringed shores outlined -dimly against the starlit west seemed the shadowy -ramparts of fairyland.</p> - -<p>Probably Billy appreciated the scene more -deeply than Sydney, yet he saw it often, and -consequently was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>“What’s the trick you want me to turn for -you with Bess?”</p> - -<p>At the telephone asking this favor from Billy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -had seemed a little thing; now that the moment -had come it was all but impossible. Yet he had -delayed too long. It was nearly a month since -the night of Max’s coming, the night when Sydney -had determined to “do something for Ida”; -but he had let the days pass in inaction. This -moment he was in for it.</p> - -<p>“It’s about Ida Jones. Do you know her?”</p> - -<p>“Just to bow; she isn’t in any of my classes.”</p> - -<p>“She was in mine last year; when I moved up -a grade at the beginning of this semester I left -her back there in the juniors.”</p> - -<p>“What about her? Evidently you have her -beaten in the highbrow race.”</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t have been so if I had been -obliged to work all summer as she did. You -know the good old Pop fixed it for me. That’s -how I was able to study in vacation and make a -class ahead.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. But return to Miss Jones. And to -Bess; what’s the relation?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I wish you’d ask the Queen to invite Ida -to her party. It would put her easy with her -class if a senior, and such a senior as Miss Bess -Carter, asked her to a party.”</p> - -<p>Billy laughed. “Is that all? Ask her yourself. -You carry good weight with her.”</p> - -<p>“Billy! Billy To-morrow! I’ll never turn the -trick in the world! You know I’m tongue-tied -when a girl shows up.”</p> - -<p>“Surely not so in the case of Miss Jones,” -Billy chaffed. “How did you learn her -troubles? You must have chinned some with -her.”</p> - -<p>“She never told me her troubles. I haven’t -spoken ten minutes with her altogether. But I -can see—and hear.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“That all the girls nod coldly when she passes; -that none of them run up and make love to her, -or—”</p> - -<p>“Make love? Girls? What do you mean?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t you see it all the time? Almost every -girl in school is either on her knees in adoration -of some other one, or is herself the adored one.”</p> - -<p>“Mumps! You’re getting classy! Both in -language and in the matter of observation.” -Billy clapped his friend on the shoulder in true, -young-mannish fashion, a caress that would have -floored one less sturdy. “What do you hear?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, scraps of conversation spoken between -chums, yet to the world in general. You know -how it is with a certain kind of rich girl, she -talks loud, as if she owned the earth and wanted -all to know it.”</p> - -<p>“Not all the rich ones though. May Nell -Smith is the richest girl in school, but you can’t -call her loud.”</p> - -<p>“Surely not. And there are others of course. -Perhaps I should have said the girl who wishes -to be thought rich, or those who haven’t been -so very long.”</p> - -<p>“That’s it. You can spot ’em. Father worth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -half a million, half a pound of extra hair. Father -worth—by report—twenty thousand, two -pounds of the most startling hair.”</p> - -<p>Sydney took up the comparison. “Father -worth many millions and mother a lady, just her -own hair worn—worn—Well, that’s where I -fall down. Billy, how does Miss Smith wear -her hair?”</p> - -<p>Billy laughed. “And how does Miss Jones?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know. It looks awfully easy. -It’s not bandaged like a broken head, and it’s -nicer than all those buns and cart wheels and -things. It’s curly.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know that?”</p> - -<p>“Because often she wears no hat, and the -more it rains the curlier it gets. That’s the way -with Max’s.”</p> - -<p>Billy sent a glance to the other visitor. -“There’s surely some class to him.” He stared -at Max a moment but came abruptly back to the -question. “Who is Miss Jones’ father?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>“She has neither father nor mother. She just -takes care of herself; works right along for her -board.”</p> - -<p>Billy whistled. “That’s the little joker that -turns up the other girls’ noses.”</p> - -<p>“But why? I work for my board. Everybody -knows I was a stowaway on the San Francisco -steamship, or can know it; I never tried to -hide it. Did it make any difference with you fellows? -With you or Reg Steele and your cousin -Hec Price, who belong to the best people in the -city, and the richest? No. You took me in the -same as you took in Redtop and Sis Jones; and -there’s more class to any of the fellows in your -set than to me. Don’t I know that?”</p> - -<p>“That’s where you’re off the boulevard, old -chap. You’re in the class that has pluck and -honesty and the capacity for friendship. That’s -a class by itself. You notice Walter Buckman -doesn’t figure large in high jinks engineered by -Bess Carter or May Nell.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But why don’t the girls take in a friendless -girl as you fellows took me?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know. Girls are different.” -Billy could not answer that question. It was too -large for him. It is too large for most people. -We see a sweet young thing making herself -ridiculous over the sufferings of a pampered cat, -who yet will calmly stab to the heart with a cold -stare some struggling girl who wears a last year’s -frock and earns the bread she eats.</p> - -<p>“I give it up,” Billy said after awhile. “But -I’ll tell you one thing; if Miss Jones is O. K. -otherwise, working for her board won’t make any -difference to Bess Carter, nor to May Nell.”</p> - -<p>“I know that. It’s why I am so anxious for -Bess to invite her. Will you do it—get Bess -to ask her?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. That is, I’ll tell Bess about her, and -May Nell too.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! What a lever money is.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, for good or bad.”</p> - -<p>“There’s May Nell Smith. As soon as she -grew strong enough to stand the strain of public -school her father put her there because he wanted -her to come in touch with all sorts of children; -and see what she can do. She’s just as sweet as -ever, and her nod is law to the girls.”</p> - -<p>“You’d never know she was a rich man’s -daughter by the way she dresses, Ida says.”</p> - -<p>“You’d know she was the daughter of a -sensible woman though.”</p> - -<p>Sydney agreed, his heart quite at rest about -Ida; and both sat quietly listening to the music. -Neither realized the secrets of the great social -fabric they had grazed, though Sydney continued -in thought to follow the puzzle that provoked -his question to Billy; why do girls—young -women—treat each other as they do?</p> - -<p>This led back to the day many months earlier -when a couple of squabbling boys, turning the -high school corner, ran against a girl, almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -knocking her over, and sending her books flying -on the wet walk. They were too occupied to -notice their rudeness; but Sydney was in time to -prevent her from falling and to restore her books.</p> - -<p>This was Ida Jones. Bashful as Sydney was, -her gratitude unlocked his speech; and walking -home with her he learned a little of her loneliness -and struggle for an education. She probably -told Sydney more of her life than she would -have told another, because his own life was so -similar. And ever since there had been this bond -of sympathy between them, though they rarely -were together.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wright’s enthusiastic voice recalled Sydney -from his reveries. “Mr. Ball plays! Makes -real music! Sydney, you should be glad to live -in the same house with him.”</p> - -<p>Sydney wondered if he was grateful. Again -the mean little yellow fiend of envy stuck up its -head, and he had his fight all over.</p> - -<p>“I have persuaded him to play with the quartette;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -it will be a splendid addition,” Mrs. -Wright continued.</p> - -<p>Billy rose and shook hands with him, boy -fashion, for Billy was still a boy at heart in all -he did, yet a very lovable boy. “That’s all to -the good. Welcome to the jolly six—jolly -seven it will be, now you have joined.”</p> - -<p>“You must bring Mrs. Schmitz over to some -of the rehearsals. I shall call on her very soon. -Do you think she’d have time for me, Sydney?”</p> - -<p>He was sure of it.</p> - -<p>“And we shall drop the Mister and call you -just plain Max, may we?” Billy questioned. -“No one is allowed a handle to his name but her, -my sister here. We have to permit that because -she’s married.” Billy nudged his sister, mischief -in his eyes.</p> - -<p>Max bowed gravely. “I shall be honored by -your kindness.”</p> - -<p>Billy, a trifle awed by Max’s seriousness, -could not know that the newcomer was feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -the weight of his responsibility; was wondering -if they would accept him so cordially if they -knew all.</p> - -<p>The other boys came, Charles Harper called -Redtop because of his “smiling” hair, a fine fellow, -well grown and with eyes that looked -straight at his listener; and “Sis” Jones, Cicero -really, but “Sis” in his set since the day he had -been caught embroidering a pattern on the sail -of the “Miss Snow,” Hector Price’s sailboat. -Young Jones was as old as any of them and as -plucky; but he was slender, blond, not very tall, -and gave the impression of effeminacy. Yet certain -ones who knew said those small hands could -grip like iron.</p> - -<p>His voice was the sweet, haunting tenor, while -Sydney was second tenor. Charles sang a deep, -rich bass, and Billy second bass. All-round -utility man Billy called himself, since his voice -was adaptable, and if his sister was prevented it -was Billy who accompanied on the piano. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -was also librarian, sent out meeting notices, and -otherwise, “bossed the job,” to use his own words.</p> - -<p>The other member was Hugh Price, “Squab,” -Billy’s short fat cousin. He had grown since -the happy camping days at Lallula, but it seemed -all laterally. His anxiety to gain height was -well known, and the most acceptable compliment -one could pay him was to say, “You’re taller.” -He played the flute—played it well.</p> - -<p>All welcomed Max cordially, and still more -enthusiastically when they had heard him play. -And rapidly the two hours of practice passed; -as a breath to Sydney, who not only loved to -sing, but lived his happiest hours, in this -household.</p> - -<p>On the way home when the two boys, Max and -Sydney, changed cars at a busy junction, they -found the second car crowded at the rear end -with high school students. They had evidently -been somewhere in a body, and were noisy and -restless, obstructing the passage way, playing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -rough pranks, and acting as if they owned the -car.</p> - -<p>“Move up forward!” the conductor repeated -with no effect.</p> - -<p>The two edged slowly through, hindered by -the wedged mass, and slyly tripped by a hidden -foot. All knew Sydney and greeted him by his -nickname; but only one spoke to Max.</p> - -<p>“Hello, young feller! What are you out of -quod for?” sneered that one in his ear.</p> - -<p>Max knew him. It was Walter Buckman, who -had opened the door to him the night he went to -pay for his stolen supper. As Max, trying to -obey the conductor, pressed forward, one, instigated -by Walter, pushed Sydney aside and -jerked Max against a lady so adroitly that it -seemed entirely Max’s fault.</p> - -<p>He righted himself, apologizing earnestly. -But he had torn her dress and she was not very -gracious.</p> - -<p>“Aw, you have to excuse a drunken man,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -lady,” a noisy one called out, and again began -the pushing and scuffling.</p> - -<p>“Move up front there or I’ll put you off!” -the conductor ordered more sternly.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to see you do it!” one of the bolder -threatened.</p> - -<p>Sydney saw Walter secretly urge the big fellow -on.</p> - -<p>The conductor was not afraid. He stopped -the car right there, opened the gates, and collared -the aggressor.</p> - -<p>But the students stood by their mate, and it -would have gone hard with the conductor if one -or two men had not risen quickly and faced them.</p> - -<p>“You get off the car or we’ll help him put -you off!” said one, a well known banker, a man -of power in the city.</p> - -<p>The big fellow, seeing opposition was useless, -stepped down, calling to the others to follow; but -the conductor shut the gates, rang two bells, and -again ordered the young men forward.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Buckman, you get forward there,” the same -authoritative passenger ordered. “You’re the -ringleader.” And to the lady of the torn dress -he said, indicating Max, “This young man is not -at fault; it was those behind him. I saw them.”</p> - -<p>“Stop at the next corner,” ordered Walter.</p> - -<p>The conductor was about to ring when the -same man of authority said, “Conductor, go -on.” And to the boys, “You young ruffians, get -up forward there as ordered!”</p> - -<p>“You can’t do that,” Walter began; “we’ll -have an action against the company. You can’t -prevent a passenger getting off at any street he -wants.”</p> - -<p>“Very well. Bring your action. I’m president -of the company, and I think, Walter Buckman, -that your father will not care to sue for -you, not with these witnesses.” He whipped out -a notebook and took the names and addresses of -some of the passengers, the lady’s whose dress -had been torn, and of one or two well-known men.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sullenly the squad of trouble makers moved -up the aisle. And as they passed Max, Walter -leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I’ll get -even with you for this.”</p> - -<p>Sydney heard the words. “Don’t get fussed -up,” he said to Max. “There’s a few coming to -him. That bunch isn’t out for any good, and -Walt Buckman ought to be headed the other -way this time of night. He lives the second door -from Billy.”</p> - -<p>Max made no reply. Through the rest of the -ride and while the two walked the block between -the car line and the nursery, he was wondering -what form Walter’s threat would take. And -while he prepared for bed, and still more in -troubled dreams, his imagination conjured gruesome -pictures.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">For many days Max observed Walter Buckman -closely but saw nothing suspicious -except that he avoided meeting either Max or -Sydney whenever possible.</p> - -<p>Weeks passed. The trees were budding and -the garden borders were yellow with crocuses and -daffodils. And with the spring came to Mrs. -Schmitz, as to most women, the fervor of house-cleaning. -She did this as everything else, with -vigor and dispatch.</p> - -<p>“Come mit me, Seedney; you have to move,” -she said breezily as she pushed back from the -early breakfast table one Saturday morning.</p> - -<p>Sydney looked up apprehensively.</p> - -<p>“Have no fear,” she began smilingly, yet her -face saddened a little. “Poor boy! You have -so often to move in your life you are afraid of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -the word, <i lang="de">nicht wahr</i>? I send you not away. -Think not so.”</p> - -<p>Sydney’s face cleared and he followed her -upstairs.</p> - -<p>“It iss here you will stay.” She stopped at -the open door of a well furnished chamber, the -second finest of the six sleeping rooms.</p> - -<p>“Why? I am perfectly satisfied with my own -place.”</p> - -<p>“This iss your own place now.”</p> - -<p>“But it is even finer than Max’s.”</p> - -<p>She looked at him keenly for a moment and -dropped into a chair. “Here by me sit; I speak -mit you of something important.” For a little -she was silent, and he knew she was striving to -find words in the troublesome English that would -correctly voice her thought.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if you shall understand what I am -now to say? When you came to me you had not -much luxury seen; nicht wahr? Iss it not so?” -she translated quickly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sydney smiled. “Oh, surely! A warm dry-goods -box to sleep in sometimes, a cheap boarding -house here in this city, and—” he passed -his hand across his eyes—“and the time I spent -with Billy Bennett at his cousin’s camp; that -was real luxury.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz nodded understandingly. “But -you have one time a home, a house, a mother?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but I hardly remember my mother. -After she died pa wasn’t much on the housekeeping, -and we generally slept in a room somewheres -and ate round.”</p> - -<p>“Not square?” Her eyes twinkled, for she -had no intention, as Sydney could see, that the -conversation should be a sad one.</p> - -<p>“Yes, round the square—at restaurants,” he -bandied.</p> - -<p>“So? I think that. Now when you came here -by me I gave you my poorest room. I say to -myself, this is for three times because. One because, -he iss not used to good things; he will feel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -not so strange in a poor but comfortable room. -Second because, I will see first how he treats -mine furniture. If he iss mitout care for it when -it iss old, he will not be goot to it when it iss -new. Ant third because, I will see if—if first -he likes me.” She hesitated and averted her face. -When she resumed her tone was apologetic, almost -diffident. “An old woman who all alone -lives gets pretty lonesome, seeing only people mit -business. I think a goot boy will be company.”</p> - -<p>Sydney could never have told what made him -do it; he was crushed with shame the moment it -was over. With a quick gesture he reached out, -caught up her fat, work-worn hand, and kissed -her bare arm.</p> - -<p>Except Mrs. Bennett’s one motherly welcome, -he had not given or received a kiss since his -mother’s death; but in that illuminating instant -he knew it was the shadowy memory of her -caresses that made him understand Mrs. -Schmitz’s loneliness; and a great hunger for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -affection that had been growing all his forlorn -life broke forth in that mute kiss.</p> - -<p>“Seedney!” She drew his head to her and -kissed him softly on the cheek. “We’ll be -friends—always friends. <i lang="de">Nicht wahr?</i>”</p> - -<p>There was no excess of sentiment in her quiet -tone; and in the kiss even less of the passion of -the mother than his had held of the passion of a -son. The words were rather the pledge of a great -friendliness; a friendliness that would outlast -every trial. It was a solemn moment to Sydney; -he felt as if an angel had been near.</p> - -<p>“So now my three times because comes right, -ant you take this room,” she declared.</p> - -<p>“But it is too fine for me.”</p> - -<p>“No. Nothing I have iss too fine for you. I -want you to feel all the time that the whole world -cannot give you too fine a thing. You are a man. -God makes you. In his image he makes you. -The best cannot be too good if—<em>if</em> you feel -always you are a child of the Divine.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>A new light came into Sydney’s mind; the light -that breaks in any soul when first it realizes its -divinity, its infinity. She had awakened Sydney.</p> - -<p>“Where does it tell that? In the Bible?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Ant your own soul tells you if you -listen right. I will show you also where to read. -But not now—to-morrow. Today we work.”</p> - -<p>More she said as they moved Sydney’s possessions, -partly in answer to his wondering questions, -but more directly from her store of wisdom.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de">Du sollst deinen Naechsten lieben als dich -selbst</i>,” she said musingly after a pause and did -not know she was speaking in German till she -saw Sydney’s look of perplexity. “Thou shalt -love thy neighbor as thyself,” she translated; -“but if you think yourself a poor, mean creature, -it iss not much goot to love somebody like -yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I never thought of it in that way,” Sydney -observed.</p> - -<p>“One thing I tell you—watch Max. Copy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -him in manner; he iss a gentleman. Also his -father, though he iss a hard man.”</p> - -<p>“Ant also he loves Max but he shows it not -right. The mutter—Ach, he has no mother!” -She sighed and hurried off to the next room.</p> - -<p>In a moment she was back again, a little excitement -in her manner. “Not one word shall -you say to Max about this. He knows not that -I know.”</p> - -<p>“You have seen—written to his father -then?” Sydney hazarded.</p> - -<p>Her smile was inscrutable. “Not any of those -things. Max tells it all to me himself; not mit -words—he never knows that he tells. I know. -But you ant I speak not. <i lang="de">Nicht wahr?</i>”</p> - -<p>Sydney assented and she continued.</p> - -<p>“I wish you should speak German mit Max -ant me. I shall not make the mistakes in German. -I speak good Court German. It will later -make—what you say? credit for you in the -university.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Does Max speak it correctly?”</p> - -<p>“Surely. Beautiful German. Also you shall -spend more time at the music. You shall learn -the piano. I will teach you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, Mrs. Schmitz,” he objected; “it -takes too much time. I shall never be a pianist. -I care only to sing.”</p> - -<p>“Of course you will not be a pianist. For -that you begin as soon as you can walk. But -there be times when you must play your own -accompaniment mebbe, or refuse to sing. To -refuse iss not goot. Also playing a little helps -to appear better in company.”</p> - -<p>“But you have too much to do. You are -tired—”</p> - -<p>“Listen, goot boy! You help me more than -you know. You make four eyes to watch mine -business. Things this year go goot. I shall soon -keep one cook. Then I have much time.”</p> - -<p>Sydney was truly glad, and showed his feeling; -though he could not express it as Max did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -when told of the impending change for the benefit -of the household.</p> - -<p>“Good! That’s right. It’s distressing to -see her hands so stiffened with hard work, when -they should be kept soft and supple for the -piano. Such a woman drudging at man’s work, -too! I hate it for her!”</p> - -<p>Sydney recognized that Max’s understanding -of Mrs. Schmitz was far more discriminating -than his own, and the fact made him feel young -and ignorant. But he did not let this increase his -jealousy. He believed he had pretty well downed -that meanness.</p> - -<p>Max, never dreaming of the sentiment he had -aroused, unconsciously made it harder for Sydney -by his boyish chaffing, or by his excursions -with Mrs. Schmitz into the world of books and -music where Sydney could not go.</p> - -<p>Yet this was the best thing that could have -happened to Sydney. He began to read as -never before, spurred by his envy. Not tasks set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -by a teacher nor for amusement; but for the sake -of what he should find locked in books. He -tried hard to see the charm in the classics from -which Max with shining eyes quoted glibly. -Many times he read things Max recommended, -read doggedly till at last the stately rhythm -caught his ear, and the meaningless words -thrilled him.</p> - -<p>The day before Bess’s party Mrs. Schmitz -surprised the boys with new suits, shoes, ties, and -gloves, everything complete.</p> - -<p>Max drew the soft handkerchief through his -fingers caressingly. “What a satisfaction! Real -linen once more.”</p> - -<p>Sydney was pleased with his clothes but he -did not know linen from cotton, nor the value -of knowing. Yet when both boys were dressed -and parading in front of their delighted house-mother, -Sydney was fully as grateful, as much -filled with a comfortable sense of being well -dressed as was Max. And neither of them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -enjoyed their finery so much as the one who gave -it to them.</p> - -<p>The party was a success. Bess was a cordial, -unaffected hostess; and her father and mother -doubled her welcome because they were able to -be young with young people.</p> - -<p>Ida Jones was there. Any girl or woman -would have known that her simple gown of rich -creamy color cost little; a dressmaker would have -known it was homemade, yet to Sydney it -looked gorgeous; and the rose she wore in her -hair, one that Bess begged to pin on after Ida -arrived, held in its deep heart all the rich reddish -yellows and yellow browns of her hair.</p> - -<p>She looked so “dressed up,” so young lady-like, -that Sydney was afraid of her; and with a hurried -nod, passed her and stood aloof with one or -two other young chaps, wearing their first evening -clothes, cold with nervousness, thinking -every eye upon them.</p> - -<p>Bess spied them and came over, speaking to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -Sydney first. “Miss Jones will be your partner -for the evening. You must see that she has -a good time. May I depend on you, Mr. -Bremmer?”</p> - -<p>She was more than ever the Queen of Sheba -tonight, a large, richly colored brunette with -the mystery of the East looking from her dark -eyes, but the strength and fearless generosity of -the West heartening through all her cheery -speech. Her dress of some soft, oriental stuff, -simply made and worn with no ornament save -a strand of curiously wrought eastern beads, -emphasized and distinguished her from the over-dressed -girls who were in the majority.</p> - -<p>She, too, gave Sydney a shiver of strangeness. -He did not notice that the young men also -looked “different,” wore their “company” manners; -and the “Mr. Bremmer” frightened him.</p> - -<p>“I—I’ll try. What—how—you know—Say! -This is awfully—”</p> - -<p>“Awfully sudden? Why Mumps! I thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -you could say something more original; excruciatingly -precipitant, or something like that. -Go on, and talk to her. Talk shop if you can’t -think of anything else. Or tell her how dandy -she looks. She made that little frock herself. -Isn’t she a—a peach?”</p> - -<p>That bit of slang with the familiar name -helped Sydney to “break through,” as he knew -she intended; for none better than Bess understood -the sort of good breeding that fits the rule -to the situation.</p> - -<p>As he turned back he met May Nell Smith. -She was almost grown, tall and lady-like; yet -she had the same sun-touched waving hair, the -same blue eyes and mystic, ethereal spirit looking -out from them, that he remembered when -he first met her, a delicate little girl in the big -car, taking him and Billy on their first drive -over the City of Green Hills.</p> - -<p>She greeted him warmly, a greeting that carried -assurance of good will, faith; a silent pledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -of her trust that all felt who came near her. No -one met May Nell without determining to be at -least a little different. Not dreaming that she -did it, she aroused everyone to his best. And -Sydney left her determined to bear his part for -the evening so well that Bess should be pleased -with him.</p> - -<p>When he found Ida it was with an added -respect for capability, as he looked with more -discriminating eyes at the pretty gown. He admired -her quiet good manners as she modestly, -yet without shyness, met the many strangers of -the senior class, a formidable ordeal for an -under-class girl.</p> - -<p>Still under all her sedateness Ida was shy too. -A fellow feeling drew the two together, and -they entertained each other with the exchanges -of personal experience inevitable when young -people meet, each looking eagerly out upon life -to squeeze it dry of its fascinating mysteries.</p> - -<p>When dancing was called, Sydney, who did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -not dance, started to find her partners. But -she detained him, saying she would rather talk. -However, Sydney was suddenly brave, and, -proud to be considered of consequence by so -attractive a girl, manlike, insisted. He must -show her off. At least she must dance with his -very best friend, Billy; and Max was “awfully -pat on dancing”; she must give him one.</p> - -<p>She acquiesced; but sat out other dances with -Sydney; and when dancing was halted for singing, -and Sydney had to go to the piano, he was -astonished and sorry to find the evening two-thirds -gone.</p> - -<p>The quartette, accompanied by the three -instruments, did well. The audience voted the -violin an “immense” addition. After the prepared -numbers they sang college songs, all joining; -and when Max introduced two or three -songs new to them, playing odd, catchy little -accompaniments, sometimes whistling, sometimes -singing in a funny high voice, half tenor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -half soprano in quality, they cheered him boisterously.</p> - -<p>Then they asked for something more ambitious -from the violin.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any music,” Max demurred.</p> - -<p>“The Queen has all the music ever printed,” -Billy exaggerated gayly, adding as he caught -her scowl, “Miss Carter, alias Queen of Sheba.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you’ll find something, Mr. Ball,” -she urged.</p> - -<p>“Here! Look it over!” Billy called, and -with the familiarity of long tried friendship -threw open the door of the cabinet.</p> - -<p>“Here’s something I know,” Max said presently. -“Who will play the accompaniment?” -He looked around expectantly, trying to keep -doubt out of his eyes; he was fastidious about -that.</p> - -<p>“Bess can play for you,” Billy volunteered.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I can’t please you, but I’ll try -if you wish.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> - -<p>Bess and Max, belonging to the small clan of -the really courteous, made no more excuses, but -began at once a familiar number from one of -the operas, Max standing so that he faced Bess -partly and could watch her in the violin pauses.</p> - -<p>At first he played tamely, a little hesitatingly; -but he soon saw that Bess followed with fine -discretion and sympathy, and he threw himself -into the work with entire forgetfulness of everything -else.</p> - -<p>Sydney, relieved from the duty of entertaining, -watched Bess’s flying fingers; saw her -intent look while the violin took up the theme -alone; and Max’s eager, rapt gaze upon her -during his rests—the look of an artist when he -has discovered another.</p> - -<p>Without demur they responded to an encore, -and after that supper was announced. Later -there was a little more dancing and a closing -song. Sydney, standing near, heard Bess invite -Max to come often with his violin and let her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -have the honor of learning his accompaniments -in a way that might exactly please him.</p> - -<p>“It’s what I’ve been hoping for every -minute since you first touched the keys this -evening,” Max returned with an ardent look. -Sydney could not understand that it was the -look of the musician rather than of the man.</p> - -<p>Bess blushed at the look and still more at -Max’s polished manner, so different from the -bluff, frank ways of her comrades. It was more -grown-up, with an almost foreign air of reserve, -yet conveying a subtle flattery; and Sydney -looking on felt anger rising in his heart.</p> - -<p>Here was one, scarcely his senior, dropped -into their circle by a sinister incident, coming -from no one knew where, destined no one knew -where, handsome, gallant, gifted, aided by the -gods themselves it seemed to tongue-tied Sydney, -in one evening walking into an intimacy -with Bess that he, Sydney, might wish for till -doomsday and never dream of achieving.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - -<p>Like some country booby, his mouth frozen -open in astonishment, he sulked by the newel -till Ida, coming in her wraps, reminded him of -duty and courtesy. With difficulty he roused -himself to a proper good-by to Doctor and Mrs. -Carter; but when he came to Bess he could -trust himself for no more than the words, -“Thank you. Good night.”</p> - -<p>He was so silent that Ida wondered if she -had said anything to offend him. But her own -small triumph, the brilliant scene, the comfort -of knowing herself appropriately gowned, the -pleasure of meeting on an equal footing those -who had passed her indifferently each day, and -best of all, the knowledge unwittingly accorded -by admiring eyes that she was at least not -unbeautiful—all this thrilled her, loosed her -reticent tongue, and kept her talking gayly till -they arrived at her home.</p> - -<p>“Walter Buckman is dreadfully chagrined -at receiving no invitation,” she said at her door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -“Did you know some of the Fussers were going -to boycott Miss Carter on account of it?”</p> - -<p>“Boycott Miss Carter!” Sydney echoed angrily. -“Boycott! That means cutting out Miss -Smith, Reg Steele, Hec Price, and the quartette. -What will there be left of the senior class -to boycott after that?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” Ida laughed happily. “They -are the cream; after that only riffraff like—like -me; and I’m only a girl junior.” Again -her soft laugh rippled out: “I’ve had the best -time I ever had in my life, and I thank you -for it.”</p> - -<p>“Thank Miss Carter.”</p> - -<p>“I do. But she would never have heard of -me except for you. Good-by.”</p> - -<p>It was a mile further to the nursery but Sydney -walked. He would not take a car—face -people. He wanted to arrive after Max, creep -to his room, and have it out with himself.</p> - -<p>But Max, too, had walked, wishing to be alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -under the stars. And they arrived in their street -at the same time.</p> - -<p>Max was elated. His every step betrayed it. -He strode along as if shod with springs, and his -voice thrilled with a new note. “Isn’t she -great?”</p> - -<p>“Who? Miss Smith?” Sydney knew Max -did not mean May Nell.</p> - -<p>“No, no. She’s lovely to look at and I guess -lovely to know; I didn’t notice her much. It’s -Miss Carter I mean. There’s a real musician.”</p> - -<p>“Is that all you think she is? She’s much -more than that,” Sydney defended.</p> - -<p>“All! All? To be a real musician is to have -tasted divine fire.”</p> - -<p>“All the same, I think it’s no compliment to -a girl to think only of what she can do,” Sydney -persisted with some temper.</p> - -<p>“Sydney, you don’t understand. A musician, -a real one, doesn’t <em>do</em> things musical; he -<em>is</em> them. Hundreds of girls strum <em>on</em> the piano.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -The rare one puts her soul into it and draws -forth the angel of harmony that civilizes us.”</p> - -<p>Sydney knew this was a high tribute, but with -narrow, snap judgment decided it was selfish.</p> - -<p>Max talked on, and on, more to himself than -to his unwilling listener, but roused at last to -Sydney’s silence. “I guess you don’t wish me -to play with Miss Carter. Is that it? Do you -care so much?”</p> - -<p>How could Sydney know that it was the intuition -belonging to his temperament that enabled -Max to read his heart? Angry, hurt, jealous, -he did what the awkward, blundering boy so -often does, denied himself, belied himself. “I? -I have nothing to say about it. Miss Carter is -nothing to me. I’ve known her some time, -that’s all. Her folks are kind to me, too.”</p> - -<p>“Then it’s all right?”</p> - -<p>“Of course it is.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” Max responded; and they entered -the house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> - -<p>On the hall table lay a fat-looking, pretentious -letter for Max.</p> - -<p>It was an invitation to him to join the Fussers -Club. Reed Hathaway begged the honor of -presenting Mr. Ball’s name, and hoped for -prompt permission to do so.</p> - -<p>Max read it twice and handed it to Sydney with -no comment.</p> - -<p>“Well, wouldn’t that flitter you!” he exclaimed, -holding the big sheet out far and up -near, as if thus shifting it might cause some -hidden meaning to leap from the few words.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been in school only a few weeks; isn’t -it pretty early to invite me into that club of -exclusives?”</p> - -<p>“No. They want to be styled good dressers -and successful haughties. You could wear rags -better than some of them can wear the glad -goods; and your face, manner, and violin have -done the rest.”</p> - -<p>“Yet—Reed Hathaway—he’s Buckman’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -best friend; he must know of that street-car -incident. What does it mean?”</p> - -<p>“I pass it up. What do you think?”</p> - -<p>“It’s the riddle of the Sphinx to me.”</p> - -<p>“Sleep on it,” Sydney sagely advised; and -they separated.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">Max did sleep on it but morning brought -no solution for the riddle. While he -dressed he pondered it, stopping to study the -stately constitution and by-laws submitted with -the invitation. From them he gathered a greater -respect for the organization than its frivolous -name had given him. But he got no further -toward discovering the reason for his invitation, -and ran downstairs, a little late, to find -Mrs. Schmitz unusually excited.</p> - -<p>She had been drawn on jury duty, her first -experience, for she had not lived in Washington -in the earlier territorial days when women were -citizens.</p> - -<p>“That cook comes not before next week, and -now they call me on jury already. That marmalade -will spoil surely.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Get excused,” advised Max.</p> - -<p>“To make marmalade?” Mrs. Schmitz -turned swiftly to him, speaking sternly. “In -Germany one man does everything—one man -and a few nobility. In America all men of the -nation have each work to do; and here in -Washington also women. I do not shirk.”</p> - -<p>“I see.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll take good care of things,” Sydney assured -her; “it’s fine that it’s vacation. Tell us -what to do.”</p> - -<p>“Goot boy, Seedney! What to do you ever -ask. You also so ask, Max?”</p> - -<p>“Surely.”</p> - -<p>Sydney noticed that Max’s face had no cloud -on it. He did not show resentment of her trust -in Sydney, nor of his superior knowledge of -commonplace duties.</p> - -<p>“There iss not so much to do in the house—enough -to eat—anyways Seedney, you are a -goot cook. Ant the nursery—you know already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -what goes on there. Look a leetle out for Blitzen, -ant—that iss all I guess.”</p> - -<p>“The marmalade?” Sydney inquired.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that spoils anyhow I guess. No matter. -Mebbe the trials will be over pretty quick; -then I’ll make it.”</p> - -<p>She was as brisk and prompt about civic duty -as about her own; and when the boys insisted -she should do no housework that morning, she -was ready before starting time, looking quite -imposing in her “going out” clothes.</p> - -<p>While she sat waiting, Sydney ran out on some -errand to the nursery, and Max, still puzzling -over the invitation he had received, seized this -opportunity to talk it over with her.</p> - -<p>She inquired the object of the club. The elaborate -constitution couched in flowing, dignified -English was quite impressive. Max began to -read it to her, but she stopped him.</p> - -<p>“I cannot understand that language. What -kind of boys belong?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Some of the most influential boys in school, -Sydney says.”</p> - -<p>“Influential?” She paused a moment as if -studying the word. “That may be goot or bad. -Not bad I guess, or teachers would stop it.”</p> - -<p>It was time to start and they walked across -to the car line, passing on the way a row of -splendid maples growing from the ground about -three feet above the sidewalk. The bank had -recently been cut down sheer and many roots -were exposed.</p> - -<p>“Look here already!” Mrs. Schmitz indicated -a slender root of uniform size running -laterally, entirely in view. “What do you see?”</p> - -<p>“Jolly! It runs from a down-bearing root -of this tree right to a similar root of that other -tree. And here’s another!” he called, walking -rapidly ahead of her. “I didn’t know things -like that happened.”</p> - -<p>“Look close. You see many more leetle roots -all going same way.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How strange!”</p> - -<p>“Not so. You have not studied; that’s all. -Under ground are many strange things. From -air, water, ground, and sun comes all life; but -first everything begins in the ground—in the -dark.”</p> - -<p>Max was awed by her seriousness. “Everything?” -he said.</p> - -<p>“Yes.” She picked up a little twig and began -to stir the loose earth absent-mindedly. “Now—this -time of year are great things going on -down there—in the dark. A great fight for -life. All the leetle seeds hear the spring birds -sing ant they feel the warm sun coming; ant -something tells them, ‘Come up! Come up! -Come quick before it iss too late.’”</p> - -<p>“Too late?” Max repeated when she dropped -into silence.</p> - -<p>“There iss so much for seeds to do in one -summer, to feed themself with air, sun, water, -that makes them to grow; to make flower ant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -seed; ant to put in every leetle seed also enough to -last it through the long winter.”</p> - -<p>It seemed strange to Max that she should -speak of a mere seed as if it were sentient.</p> - -<p>“So many seeds, so many new leetle roots -growing, sometimes so leetle rain ant so hard -the ground—it iss all one big fight, pushings, -pullings, to see who first gets to the top, to the -light.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how they know when to start—the -little seeds shut up in the dark down there.”</p> - -<p>“Their soul tells them.”</p> - -<p>“Soul?” Max asked, startled.</p> - -<p>“Yes. In all things, behind everything living -iss soul.”</p> - -<p>“That seems queer. I never thought a plant -could have a soul.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe you call it intelligence. Names make -leetle difference. What do you think? Look at -mine lily. It iss in November just a dry brown -thing like onions. I put it in the ground. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -grows, blooms with a beautiful flower; then its -leafs die, its flower, all you see. In August it -iss again one dry brown thing like onions. But -inside iss all the bloom, all the green leafs, all -the lovely color, sweet fragrance, wrapped in -those leetle silk folds. It has drawn all back -again into itself. I throw it in mine cellar. It -has no water, no light, nothing; but next year -if I put it once again into the ground it blooms. -What do you call that?”</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t know. It’s wonderful!”</p> - -<p>“Also grass thinks.”</p> - -<p>“Thinks! Grass?”</p> - -<p>They were passing a lawn that needed mowing. -“See that clover? In May it blooms. -Every week after that this man mows his lawn, -ant every week he cuts off leetle clover blossoms -mebbe two inches high. But there on the vacant -lot just beside you see other clover growing?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“That also gets plenty water from the sprinkler;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -but that clover takes its time. That clover -grows mebbe one foot high before it blooms. -What do you call that? That grass thinks -mebbe? <i lang="de">Nicht wahr?</i>”</p> - -<p>Max looked his astonishment. “Why is it -so?”</p> - -<p>“Why? It iss the law of life. All things -before they die give back to the world children. -If the clover in the lawn hurries not it never -blooms; never puts out its flower. The clover -on the side needs not to hurry.”</p> - -<p>“I shall never look at clover again without -thinking of all this.”</p> - -<p>“Soul, law, intelligence, God—I think all -those names mean pretty near the same, and -Heavenly Father iss best of all. Plant, bird, -man,—all are in God’s hant. All are brothers. -One plant likes one thing. Another plant likes -it not, but something else. Each helps all.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I begin to see,” Max said, his face -shining with understanding.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Those maple trees mit big tops—alone mit -a big wind they fall mebbe; tied together mit -many roots they stand.”</p> - -<p>“And for such needs are clubs, societies, -and——”</p> - -<p>“That iss right! How quick you see, Max!”</p> - -<p>The car interrupted them, and she left him, -waving her smart umbrella in good-by. From -her face beamed a love for him, for all humanity, -that as yet he could but half appreciate; yet her -words had made a deep impression.</p> - -<p>When he returned to the house he found Sydney -washing the dishes. “Here! Let me bear -a hand.” He caught the towel and began to dry -the plates.</p> - -<p>Sydney was silent, for a scheme was growing, -the making of the marmalade.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” he asked when Max objected that -they might spoil it. “The stuff will spoil anyway; -if we can save it, won’t it be so much to -the good?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes. But can we do it right?”</p> - -<p>“No matter. She makes the best marmalade -in town, the neighbors say. They know, for -she gives away a lot. She’s started this right; if -we finish it up half right it will do for us boobs to -eat on bread and butter, won’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Surely, and be much better than we deserve -probably.”</p> - -<p>The dishes finished, Sydney found Mrs. -Schmitz’s recipe book and the two studied the -complicated directions. It was a three days’ -process, and they could not make up their minds -whether this was the second or third day, so little -idea had they of the “looks of the mess.” But -they acted on the latter inference.</p> - -<p>“Let’s do it today and get it over with,” -Sydney, the prompt, suggested.</p> - -<p>“Very well. Tell me what to do.”</p> - -<p>Not without a little show of importance Sydney -bustled about, giving orders, looking up the -great preserving kettle, and searching for such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -materials as he judged were not already put -together.</p> - -<p>Max minded this not in the least. He had -the soul of the true artist, who is always too -deeply engrossed in his work to notice what -others are doing, or saying of him. Over and -over he read the recipe, thinking closely, and -once or twice correcting Sydney himself in his -interpretation.</p> - -<p>It was great fun till the long process of boiling -and simmering came, and the kitchen grew -hot, as, boy fashion, they stuffed the range with -kindling and coal, and in consequence had to -cook their sweet stuff on the very rear edge of -the range.</p> - -<p>But Sydney found Max a good partner in -distress. He did even more than his share of -the watching and stirring, declaring it was the -proper work of the second cook.</p> - -<p>“How is it, Max, that whatever you take up, -you do it so perfectly, so successfully at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -very first? I must always try and try again.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I like to undertake new -things. I put my whole mind on what I do.”</p> - -<p>“So do I. But it’s something more than -that. Look at the way you have taken to the -work in the hothouses. Only yesterday Mrs. -Schmitz said you learned wonderfully fast; as -if you knew long ago, and had only to ‘remember -it as from sleep waking.’”</p> - -<p>“How could I help learning about plants with -her to teach me? She makes them so interesting. -She loves them as if they were children, and -while I’m with her I feel the same. If it wasn’t -for music I could be willing to work always with -them.”</p> - -<p>“Yet you couldn’t get work last winter. -That seems strange.”</p> - -<p>Max thought a moment before replying. “I -don’t understand it myself. The first work -I had after I arrived in the City of Green Hills -was collecting for a doctor. I was too careless—no,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -I didn’t know enough to hide the money; -and the third day a big fellow caught me in a -lonely place and robbed me. The doctor -wouldn’t believe me, and so I lost that job.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! That was rough.”</p> - -<p>“The next thing was being bell boy at a hotel. -That lasted two months, but——say, Sydney, -I just hated that work. At first it made me feel -mean to take tips; then I got to looking for -’em, and I—left.”</p> - -<p>Sydney scanned the noncommittal face during -the pause that followed.</p> - -<p>“When I remembered my mother I—I -couldn’t go on there. I was out of work a long -time after that, and on the street two days and -nights before I went—where I had declared I -would not go—to the brewery to wash bottles.” -He turned away with a motion of disgust. “Gee! -The odor of that stale beer! I smell it yet.”</p> - -<p>“But why didn’t you try for a chance in an -orchestra?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<p>Max smiled. “With no proper clothes, no -violin, and not a friend among people that care -for music? There was no Mrs. Schmitz standing -round, ready to hand me an old Cremona.”</p> - -<p>Both were silent a moment. “But even bottle -washers get too plenty in the winter when work -is slack; and after I began to cough so hard -the men were afraid of tuberculosis and wouldn’t -work with me and I had to go. I couldn’t seem to -impress any one with my superior skill as bottle -washer enough to command a promotion.” He -gave Sydney a crooked smile that was not all -mirth.</p> - -<p>“That’s because it was work that needed no -thought.”</p> - -<p>“That isn’t all. There was no one to take -an interest in me, to show me what to do, and -how, as Mrs. Schmitz does. And more than -that, no one had the kind of work suited to me.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon that has the most to do with it,” -Sydney acquiesced.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Now this playing at the moving picture -houses—that’s work I ought to do well. My -father paid for my lessons for years—he hated -to do it, for he didn’t want me to be a musician, -but mother insisted. Mrs. Schmitz has helped -me to make something from all that training.”</p> - -<p>“A good friend does help a lot, doesn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Wonderfully. A little more than six weeks -altogether I’ve played, most of the time evenings -only, and I’ve made enough to buy all the -clothes I need, to pay Mrs. Schmitz a little for -my first month’s board and nursing, all she’ll -let me pay. I’m in school, I’m learning a business—no -matter if it is slowly—I have good -health, am invited to join the Fussers, and—have -a chance to play with Miss Carter. Gee! -If any one had shown me all those pictures the -night before I broke in here I’d have thought -he was dippy.” There was a happy, boyish lilt -in his tones, and he began to whistle as he stirred -the steaming fruit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<p>Carefully into the glasses, as Sydney had seen -Mrs. Schmitz put away her jellies, they dipped -the marmalade, and afterward washed up the -dishes and put the kitchen in order, rather proud -of their morning’s work. Then they went to -the nursery to help in the potting, the making -of new beds, the “slipping,” or whatever work -was most pressing.</p> - -<p>That day and night they did little cooking. -Anyone could live well more than one day on -warmed-up things at Mrs. Schmitz’s home. -Early in the evening Max wrote and posted his -acceptance of the invitation to have his name -proposed for the Fussers.</p> - -<p>They went to bed early. Neither would -acknowledge how lonely he was without Mrs. -Schmitz; though each knew the other felt it.</p> - -<p>The next afternoon a cheery voice came over -the line.</p> - -<p>“Have you all been well efer since I left -you?” Mrs. Schmitz inquired. “It seems one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -year already. I come tonight; in about two -hours now.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s surprise her!” Max proposed. -“Have a bang-up dinner. You boss, and I’ll -help.”</p> - -<p>Sydney agreed readily and both went at it.</p> - -<p>“We’ll serve it in courses. I’ll wait on you -two, and we’ll make her think of old days, when -she had servants at every turn.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know she had them? Did she -tell you?” Sydney speculated upon her confidences -to Max, thinking they must have been -much greater than any she had given him. But -Max’s laughing reply disarmed him.</p> - -<p>“She’s scarcely mentioned her past life to me; -but can’t you see? She betrays at every turn the -fact of her gentle breeding and familiarity with -luxury.”</p> - -<p>Sydney saw that it was because like knows like -that Max understood these things.</p> - -<p>He set the table with great ceremony, putting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -on all the silver he could find, meanwhile suggesting -many unusual dishes from which they selected -those they knew how to prepare or those -that “sounded easy.” Max brought the nicest -linen, and from the greenhouses fragrant flowers, -arranging a center piece that Sydney admired, -secretly envying Max his skill.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz came like a joyous, fragrant -summer wind. She seemed to bring life to a -dead house; sweetness, goodness; in short, -motherhood.</p> - -<p>She laughed, exclaimed, kissed each boy on -the cheek—and Sydney blushed with bashfulness. -She took off her hat and ran to the dining -room, saying she must start dinner. Max caught -her back and himself took off her coat. Then she -started toward the side door that led to the -nursery, and Sydney interrupted her there.</p> - -<p>“Dinner’s most ready,” he announced with -importance.</p> - -<p>“What? You boys the dinner cook?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - -<p>They nodded vigorously.</p> - -<p>“And it will spoil if you don’t hasten,” Max -continued. “You said you’d be here in two -hours. We set the time half an hour later; but -you are late and you have just seven minutes in -which to make your toilet.”</p> - -<p>Laughing and happy, she went upstairs; and -they could hear her stepping about overhead, -pulling out drawers, opening doors, and making -a racket in more rooms than one. When she -entered the sitting room again she was only a -minute late and was in evening dress.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus3"> -<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">She was in evening dress</p> -</div> - -<p>Both boys started. For all Max had told -Sydney so much, and had realized more, even he -was not prepared for the grand dame who swept -in upon them, bowing low to both. Her fine -white skin and plump neck, freed from the stiff -collar she usually wore, gave her, as with all -stout women, a stateliness the boys had little suspected; -and the sweeping train added to this -effect. The high-piled hair, gray but waving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -and beautiful, her dark blue eyes that could be -merry, tender, scornful, or stern, all her kind -features they knew so well, took on an air that -made her for an instant almost a stranger.</p> - -<p>“In honor of my dear young men, Sydney -and Max, I have dressed for dinner.”</p> - -<p>Sydney did not know that her elegant finery, -shipped from Germany, was old in style. Max -knew, but didn’t care, since it was rich and -becoming.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, dear Mrs. Schmitz. Madame, -dinner is served.”</p> - -<p>Sydney merely stared. Max’s “thank you” -was spoken as a most loving son might greet his -mother; but he wore an apron and carried a napkin -on his arm; and his “dinner is served,” was -in the tone of the most obsequious servant.</p> - -<p>They went out in great state, Sydney giving -his arm, and Max throwing open the door, drawing -the chair for Madame and, when he had -seated her, standing stiffly behind her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>Before she could touch her soup Sydney -brought a jar of marmalade, insisting that she -should try it at once.</p> - -<p>“No, no! Not before soup!” Max objected, -forgetting his “place” as waiter. “Take your -sweets away till dessert.”</p> - -<p>“They’re his sweets too. It’s really a three-partner -job,” Sydney explained.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz pronounced it excellent with such -fervor that both boys were convinced. She never -told them that it was “clear as mud.” How could -it be otherwise when Max had “stirred it to -death”?</p> - -<p>With great merriment, and in several courses, -the dinner passed. Max insisted on serving in -great style because he knew how it should be -done; but she blighted his vanity by commanding -him to his own seat while they ate. It was -really a success. She praised everything, entering -into their fun; and the boys, taught by her absence, -felt a deeper joy in all she did, realizing gratefully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -how much a part of her home life she considered -them.</p> - -<p>A few days after this came a telephone summons -from Bess Carter for Max to bring his -violin and music. There was an invitation for -Sydney also, but he refused—so curtly that -Max, who, though leaving the room, could not -help hearing it, was out of patience with him. -And when he came home after an evening of -music and joy he painted it in extravagant -fashion, intending to punish Sydney for slighting -Miss Carter. He never dreamed he was -stirring an already hot-burning fire in Sydney’s -heart.</p> - -<p>It was by no means love for Bess that seethed -in his veins. Neither was it any passion that -Sydney could recognize and analyze. It was a -savage sort of resentment that another should -be able to please, not only Bess, but all, girls -and boys; that Max should be able to say with -ease the most appropriate and interesting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -things, while he, Sydney, the tongue-tied, could -merely mumble. That Max could make exquisite -music, do the gallant thing at the right -moment, and wear his clothes as if they were -king’s ermine—it was all this that made the -less gifted, untaught waif of a boy—boy yet -though a man in size—rage at himself and hate -everyone, Max in particular.</p> - -<p>Twice more Max came home radiant, the -second time full of plans for more music -through that part of the vacation when Bess -should be in town, and afterward when both -should be in the university. For Max, the housebreaker, -had taken a new hold on life, had determined -to be a man in the world of best men. -Mrs. Schmitz had resurrected his ambition.</p> - -<p>Then the blow fell.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">It was the day when Max was to be voted into -the Fussers Club. He sat waiting in the anteroom, -feeling keenly the air of expectation, a -thrilling sense of important things impending. -He wondered if some disturbance was going on -in the assembly room of the club; speculated -vaguely upon what part in the fortunes of the -organization he might be called to play. Whatever -it might be, he would not shirk.</p> - -<p>In a corner two young men were evidently -though noiselessly quarreling. Presently Walter -Buckman and Billy Bennett came from the -club room and joined the others, when the altercation -became more violent. Short disjointed -remarks floated out to the listeners “—a chance,” -from Billy; and “—any such example,” from -Walter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What are they talking about?” Max asked -one standing near him, noting that with each -moment the number in the room increased.</p> - -<p>“That is the investigating committee.”</p> - -<p>“Do they often disagree so?”</p> - -<p>“No. And today there’s only one candidate; -there must be something doing.” The speaker -moved quickly away.</p> - -<p>Max noticed this, and Walter’s increasing -vehemence; and instantly a premonition of -disaster swept him like a cold, wet blast.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus4"> -<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">A premonition of disaster swept him</p> -</div> - -<p>“I tell you I won’t stand for any thieves -being voted into the Fussers,” Walter shouted, -heedless of a sibilant “Hush!” from one of the -others.</p> - -<p>“I’ll stake my honor he’s all right,” Billy -Bennett shouted back, and Max silently blessed -him for those words.</p> - -<p>Max understood—saw it all as plain as the -sum of two and two. This was the way Walter -Buckman had taken to “get even.” He had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -urged Reed Hathaway to present Max’s name, -had “talked up” the candidate right and left, -and had even told Billy, who had repeated it to -Max, that the proposed member would lend more -style and more genius to the club than any ten -previous members.</p> - -<p>Now Max knew these honeyed praises were -only for the purpose of attracting attention, for -filling the room with the curious, so that Walter’s -bomb would have an audience.</p> - -<p>Max decided to hurry the explosion. He -stepped forward and faced the committee in the -corner. “I understand that my name is the -only one under consideration, and that the investigating -committee is embarrassed concerning it. -I withdraw my name as a candidate for the -Fussers Club.” He bowed and was turning -away when Walter Buckman strode into the -middle of the room with an air of importance, -exclaiming:</p> - -<p>“No, sir! You don’t walk off with that air<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -of injured innocence. Right here and now I -brand you as a thief, Max Ball!”</p> - -<p>Max would have replied but a great hubbub -rose. He had won friends among pupils and -teachers; and those who best knew Walter were -sure there was some malevolence back of this -attack, and they stood for fair play. Walter’s -father, however, was a wealthy business man of -large power in the city and this had weight with -the truculent ones, making a following for the son -as well as the father.</p> - -<p>But Billy Bennett cared nothing at all for -Buckman, senior or junior, when fair play was at -stake; nor even for the much admired magnate, -Mr. Smith, May Nell’s father. “I protest,” he -cried. “This accusation is unworthy a student. -No matter how incriminating circumstances may -appear, there is always a chance that they may -not be true. Walter Buckman, I want you to retract -that statement.” All knew Billy was recalling -his own bitter experience of the year before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -when Jim Barney trapped him into appearing as -a thief.</p> - -<p>“I retract nothing!” Walter shouted vindictively. -“I say that last winter he robbed our -ice box; and I dare him to deny it.”</p> - -<p>Pale as ever he would be in his coffin, Max -stepped to the center of the room, looked about -him, and said in a low, steady voice, “Gentlemen, -it is true. I only hope that if such a great -temptation—such a great need should come to -any one here he will have more strength than I -had to resist it.”</p> - -<p>He bowed comprehensively, and before any -of them could recover from amazement, was gone.</p> - -<p>It took minutes for even quick-witted Billy -to comprehend what had really happened; and -still more time to think what to do next. He -voiced the opinion of all the more thoughtful -ones there when he said, “Fellows, I believe -we’ve made the mistake of our lives.”</p> - -<p>“We?” Sis Jones called out. “It’s only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -Buckman here. He’s the spot-light kicker. We -had a chance to help a good man to success, and -Buckman’s kicked him out of the procession.”</p> - -<p>“So? You stand for approving thieves, I -suppose,” Walter sneered.</p> - -<p>“Whatever he’s done must have been because -of some terrible reason,” Billy averred. -“Looking into his face when he said those last -words, one must believe in him.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you may. I don’t. I know about -him; and those who stand for that fellow may -cut my acquaintance after this.” Walter strode -off, with a large number obsequiously accompanying -him.</p> - -<p>“Well, wouldn’t that totter you?” Billy -turned to “Sis.”</p> - -<p>“We must kick in for Max good and -plenty,” “Sis” flashed. “He’s good meat clear -through to the bone.”</p> - -<p>A little longer they talked, trying to think -out some way to save Max from his enemy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you suppose he was ever really hungry—desperately -so?” “Sis” asked with awe.</p> - -<p>“Gee! I’ve been hungry enough between -sunrise and sunset to eat an ice box whole.”</p> - -<p>“So have I. Suppose a fellow had no father -and no money, and had—gone—two days, -say, unfed?”</p> - -<p>Billy nodded violently. Words could not -express such a contingency.</p> - -<p>“I’m going right out to see Mrs. Schmitz. -She and Mumps and I together surely can cook -up some scheme to put Max to the good again. -We’ll enlist Bess and May Nell and you and -Redtop—Oh, I know, I’ll get Cousin Hec -to give some sort of swell function for Max, -show off his music; invite all the bang-ups, and -Walter Buckman and his crowd, too—”</p> - -<p>“Bully! Walter’s too much of a snob to -slight the Prices or Hec’s gang; and if Walter -goes he’ll have to swallow Max whole and shut -off his gab.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>Billy started away to see Sydney. He was -detained by unexpected duties however, and it -was an hour after the explosion at school before -he arrived to find his friends in the greatest -excitement.</p> - -<p>“He iss gone!” Mrs. Schmitz burst out with -no other greeting, as Billy appeared at the open -door. “Mine poor boy! The world kicks him -down already.”</p> - -<p>“And it’s my fault,” Sydney added gloomily.</p> - -<p>“How’s that?” Billy asked, mystified.</p> - -<p>“Read you this.” Mrs. Schmitz thrust a letter -into his hand. “A messenger brings it but -this minute.”</p> - -<p>With clumsy fingers Billy unfolded the sheet -and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Schmitz, my Second Mother</span>:</p> - -<p>The boys found me out and exposed me. I could not -deny the charge, and explanations would have been useless.</p> - -<p>I must go away and begin all over again where no one -knows me. But don’t worry about me. Wherever I am I -shall not shame you. If I can’t earn food I shall not steal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -but starve as quietly as I may. Yet I have a feeling that -somewhere I shall make good; I owe that to you.</p> - -<p>I shall love you and Sydney always. This is good-by -to you both.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Max.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p>Billy stared at the others over the paper, and -for a moment the room was quite still.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz was in a brown study. Poor -Sydney’s head was bowed, his face dark with -self-accusation. The clock ticked noisily, and a -proud rooster across the street, adding his voice -to that of a laying hen, cackled with the vigor -of a dozen cocks, Billy thought. From a spring-fed, -marshy lot beyond, a bullfrog croaked suddenly. -These sounds, usually unheeded, now -thrust themselves upon Billy’s attention with -insistence and annoyance.</p> - -<p>“This will throw out the class play,” he said -abruptly.</p> - -<p>“That’s no great matter. You can alter it.”</p> - -<p>Billy recognized Sydney’s impatience. “It -<em>is</em> matter. I’ve built the whole play with Max<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -in view for the leading character; and you to -play up to him. His violin, too—why, there’s -no one in the world but him to fit in right and -do the part.”</p> - -<p>“Write another play then,” Sydney exclaimed -irritably.</p> - -<p>Billy, not knowing the cause of Sydney’s impatience, -turned in despair to Mrs. Schmitz. -“Write a three-act play and coach it, in less than -two months—and keep my place in class. And -I’m expected with the play to win out for the -Fifth Avenue High on the literary contest. -Mumps! It beats the school! Don’t you see? -If we don’t find Max we lose to one of the five -other Highs; don’t you see?”</p> - -<p>Billy probably did not know it, but he came as -near having tears in his voice as a deep-voiced -young man with some pride can come and not -really sob.</p> - -<p>This added to Mrs. Schmitz’s own zeal. She -had been thinking to some purpose. “We shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -find him! Soon! He shall play—save your -drama!” She started up.</p> - -<p>“I’m the one. It’s up to me to do the trick. -I wish I could see how.” Sydney clenched his -hands harder, and his perplexed scowl grew -deeper.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you—I’ll advertise.”</p> - -<p>Then Sydney astonished them by making the -longest speech they had ever heard from him. -“This job of finding Max is mine. If I hadn’t -been yellow clean through I’d have been there in -the anteroom when Walter Buckman played his -mean trick; been there to hit back, to come out -with Max, to make him come home with me. -Five minutes with you, Mrs. Schmitz, would have -put him steady again. He’s no coward, but he -feels things a lot—his skin’s thinner than my -thick hide, and—”</p> - -<p>“Stop! You shall not call mine Seedney -names.”</p> - -<p>He nodded grimly and continued. “But I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -was jealous of him, that’s what. Jealous from -that first night when you put him in the best -room, Mrs. Schmitz. Even after you talked it -out of me the day you gave me my new room, -and I thought I had the little deev killed and -buried for good, he came to life like a cat on one -of her nine laps. I hated Max because everything -he did was fine. He could please everybody, -play, do things right the first time—Oh, -it’s no use talking about that any more. I’ve -got to do the fair thing now—find him, find -him!”</p> - -<p>“We’ll do it. We’ll advertise,” Mrs. Schmitz -declared again.</p> - -<p>“There’s danger he won’t read the papers. -Wouldn’t a detective be better?”</p> - -<p>“Gee! That’ll be the trick!” Billy approved; -“but it will take a lot of money.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll find that money!” Mrs. Schmitz offered -quickly.</p> - -<p>“I’ll pay it back if it takes me years to earn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -it. And I’ll never go inside the Fifth Avenue -High again till Max goes with me.” Sydney -straightened with a decision new to Billy. It -seemed as if he had in a moment taken up a -great burden that he would carry to success or -die in the attempt.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz stood beside him and patted his -arm. “Seedney, that leetle yeller fellow iss good -and dead now already. He never again squeaks. -Now I will go mit you to find—”</p> - -<p>He faced her with determination. “No, Mrs. -Schmitz, I must do this alone—if I can. Let -me take my own way for three days. If the detective—if -I learn nothing then I will ask -you—”</p> - -<p>“Me, too, Mumps!” Billy flung in.</p> - -<p>“Yes, both of you. Max had no money to -speak of; I happened to see his purse when he -paid his fare this morning; there was only a little -small change. He can’t go far on that.”</p> - -<p>“No. And while you’re hunting him I’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -talk things over with mother and sister, the quartette -and the bunch; and when Max returns -we’ll all camp on his trail, so that no matter -what the Buckman crowd does, Max will feel he -has a jolly good gang behind him.”</p> - -<p>“Goot! That’s right, Billy. The friends -that beliefs in you before you prove out are -worth having. After you are successful you -don’t need ’em. Comes so many then they are -in the way.”</p> - -<p>Sydney left them and went down town, going -first to Mr. Streeter, and laying the whole case -before him, not sparing himself.</p> - -<p>His faith was warranted, for Mr. Streeter had -not befriended many boys in trouble without -coming well in touch with the machinery of the -law. He knew the best detective, and went with -Sydney to find him. This man had more than -once successfully run down a boy for this kind -friend of boys.</p> - -<p>Sydney told his story and answered many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -questions; and when the search had been thus -launched, he wandered about, not knowing just -what to do next. At a busy corner he was recalled -from a brown study by a familiar greeting, -“<i lang="chn">Kla-how-ya!</i>” A Chinook salutation.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="chn">Kla-how-ya!</i>” he returned, stopping beside -a group of Indian women, two squaws and a -child, squatted against a store front with their -wares exposed for sale, baskets, mats, and beadwork. -He knew them well; had met them several -times at the Reservation. Often he and Max -stopped to chat with them, and the older squaw -had taken a great fancy to Max.</p> - -<p>“Come Tu-la-lip tonight?”</p> - -<p>“No; I can’t go tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Heap big wau-wau and shantie.” She meant -that the Indians were to have a story-telling and -sing. Twice Max and Sydney had gone to Tu-la-lip -Reservation, for Max was deeply interested -in the Indians, some of them old friends -of Sydney’s. He had sung for them; and Max<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -played his violin—“tin-tin,” they called it, their -name for any musical instrument—and they -liked it immensely.</p> - -<p>Sydney declined the old squaw a little carelessly. -“Some other time.”</p> - -<p>“Ow go already.” This was her word for -“younger brother,” and meant Max.</p> - -<p>Sydney sprang toward her, excited. “When? -What boat?”</p> - -<p>She told him. It was the four o’clock boat. -The next was at six-thirty; and Sydney had -ample time to catch it. The Indians rose slowly, -rolled up their goods, and plodded gravely toward -the dock; the Government obliged them to be at -the Reservation every night.</p> - -<p>But Sydney ran ahead of them, his brain in a -whirl. What could have decided Max to go -there, of all places in the world? The fare, to be -sure, was only a quarter, but that sum would take -him to any one of a score of small ports on the -Sound. At the Reservation there was positively<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -nothing in the way of work for Max. Over and -over during the half-hour’s travel Sydney pondered -the matter, arriving at no conclusion.</p> - -<p>When the boat touched the landing he was off -before the hawser was thrown, skimming the -narrow strip of water in a leap, even while the -angry captain shouted a command to wait.</p> - -<p>He ran up the patch to the agent’s house, but -his anxious query brought no information; Max -had not been seen there.</p> - -<p>Baffled, Sydney turned, pointing to the old -squaw of the street shop in the City of Green -Hills. “She told him he came on the early boat,” -he panted.</p> - -<p>The agent questioned the squaw in her own -language; but before he had spoken many words -a little boy standing by broke in, jabbering fast, -and pointing across a wooded peninsula where -the Sound waters dip into the forested hills in a -narrow inlet.</p> - -<p>“This chap says your friend came here but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -hurried across the Point to the mill. A lumber -ship is loading there,” the agent translated.</p> - -<p>Sydney waited for no more but set out at a -run. That was what Max intended—to ship to -some distant port! That would certainly hide -him well, and give him a living on his way. Sydney -thought of sensitive, gifted Max handling -“tackle,” and “bossed” around by some profane -mate; treated like a machine rather than like a -human being—no, worse; machines are property -and get consideration. It is only human life -that is wasted with unconcern, it is so plenty.</p> - -<p>Running faster and faster, Sydney emerged -from the woods to see the ship steaming slowly -into the bay. For a minute his legs trembled -under him and he almost fell. Too late! Max -was surely there, lost to them forever! Suddenly -Sydney knew how thoroughly he had uprooted -his jealousy, how deeply Max had become fixed -in his heart, a part of his life, his joy and -inspiration.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> - -<p>Another quick thought buoyed Sydney—no -one would be likely to find a berth on a ship so -near to sailing as this had been.</p> - -<p>He watched her a moment and turned back -toward the mill, stumbling along out of breath, -and arriving to learn that one resembling Max -had tried and failed to ship, and had set off -southward.</p> - -<p>Southward! The Pritchard Mills, one of them -the largest shingle mill in the world! Ships were -always loading there; of course that was where -Max would turn next. The millman said one -ship was due to sail with the tide that night if -she could get a crew. The captain had been -unable to sail sooner for lack of men.</p> - -<p>Max would surely be taken! Sydney must -hurry. He asked for a horse and was laughed -at. Horses there in those dense forests were -“scarce as hen’s teeth.”</p> - -<p>There was nothing for it but to walk—nine -miles. Sydney knew the road skirting the shore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -for he had traveled it when on a “hike” with his -troop; but in daylight and with a guide was a -different matter; now it was nearing dark—it -must be half past seven. Yet he must try it; -yes, try, and succeed! He must, must arrive -before the ship sailed.</p> - -<p>He started off slowly, for he had run the two -miles from the Reservation with no thought of -saving himself; now he must husband his strength -if he would endure, arrive. It was too bad that -he could not begin with speed for the first three -miles were open and clear; the dark road was -farther on.</p> - -<p>Yet he restrained himself sternly, and in spite -of the light fog he saw settling beneath the early -stars. There were many short cut-offs where a -dim path led over some sharp pitch that the road -circled at sea level. Sydney took these as long -as he could see, noting that many cow paths led -off at various angles, and were in some cases -more distinct than the right one.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - -<p>After a time he broke into his best pace, choosing -his path as carefully as possible. He judged -he had traveled about five miles when he came -to a tongue of heavily wooded land making far -out into the Sound.</p> - -<p>The trail was good and he had little difficulty -in keeping it. Once or twice he found himself a -few steps off, but was quickly warned by the -difficult going. Yet so long the tramp seemed -to him that he feared he had lost the way, and was -beginning to despair, when he heard the welcome -lap-lap of the waves, and was soon on the wagon -road again, with the distant lights of Pritchard -Mills beckoning cheerily in long, brilliant spikes -through the thin fog, and several ships a-light -riding at anchor in the harbor.</p> - -<p>Heartened, Sydney ran on at fine speed over -the smooth springy road, arriving at the wharfinger’s -office, spent and breathless, but in good -spirits. No ship was leaving.</p> - -<p>Sydney described Max.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. That chap blew in half an hour -ago; but he’s done up. He’ll not leave port -very soon, if ever.”</p> - -<p>Chilled with apprehension, Sydney, following -the man’s directions, set out once more to find -Max.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">Sydney found Max lying in a lumberman’s -bunk, partially restored and able to -give greeting with both hand and word.</p> - -<p>“The jig’s up, you runaway; you’ve got to -come home with me.” Sydney was still panting -from his long run.</p> - -<p>Max shook his head wearily, but not before -his eyes had flashed tell-tale joy at the word -“home.” “I can’t, Sydney. I must not bring -shame to my friends, Mrs. Schmitz, you—”</p> - -<p>“Shame, nothing! We’re only ashamed that -you ran away.”</p> - -<p>“But Walter Buckman—”</p> - -<p>“Be hanged! The bunch he runs with would -have troubles of their own if they were investigated. -Jim Barney—rotten bad, he was—he -was Walter’s particular pal last year; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -Walter’s stand for high morals is too thin. He -can’t put it over. Come on.”</p> - -<p>“But Mrs. Schmitz?”</p> - -<p>“She says she’ll be everlastingly ashamed of -you if you don’t come home.”</p> - -<p>Max had not dreamed he was doing less than -right by her in taking himself permanently out -of her life. Sydney’s report of her attitude put -a new light on the matter. It was enough. He -would go back, would meet the issue; in Sydney’s -parlance, take what was coming.</p> - -<p>There was no boat till morning; and by that -time, he was able with the help of his friend to -make the trip and arrive at the nursery home -where Mrs. Schmitz, apprised by Sydney’s telephone -message, had Dr. Carter waiting. His -examination resulted in a mild prescription, -mostly rest; and Mrs. Schmitz took charge.</p> - -<p>“You get to bed mit you, right away quick—you, -Max. A boy when he runs away gets punished -mit the bed.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<p>The twinkle in her eye and the mother-tone -in her voice were very welcome to the overwrought -boy who had lived, it seemed, years of -misery since the hour he left the schoolhouse.</p> - -<p>He was not really ill, though his exhaustion, -following his protracted illness of the winter, -was serious. But Mrs. Schmitz had no use for -“mollygrups.” She petted, coaxed, scolded, and -laughed at him in turn, and soon had him on his -feet again, “so goot as efer.”</p> - -<p>The “bunch,” instigated by Billy, did a beautiful -thing on the trying morning of Max’s return -to school. They stood together in one of -the halls where, by appointment, Sydney brought -Max—the “cream of the seniors,” “Sis” Jones -declared in a hissing whisper as Walter passed.</p> - -<p>When the two came the greeting was not noisy; -just hearty handshakes, and silent messages -from, sympathetic eyes, with quiet jokes and, -“on the side,” promises of friendship.</p> - -<p>When Max reached his desk he found a fat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -letter containing “welcome” notes from Billy, -Bess, May Nell, and many others. By the light -in his teacher’s eye when she spoke to him, Max -knew he was still trusted; and he lifted his head -with courage, and entered upon his task of “living -down” any accusations Walter Buckman -and his friends might make, a task that loomed -very large to him.</p> - -<p>Billy’s efforts, enlisted by Sydney in behalf -of Ida Jones, had long before this borne fruit. -May Nell’s own shining electric motor stood -more than once in front of the house where Ida -lived, impressing the family little less than when -she was driven up in her mother’s great limousine. -And Bess Carter, whether she walked, -came by trolley, or was dropped from his motor -car by Dr. Carter, radiated power and a bluff -sort of queenliness all her own that was even -more impressive than evidence of wealth.</p> - -<p>The Pattons, with whom Ida lived, were not -unkind to her. They received her as one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -family, including her in such privileges as they -enjoyed, which were few enough. For there was -a houseful of small children to be cared for on -slender means, entailing hard work for both Ida -and her employer, who was uneducated and not -in sympathy with the girl’s intense devotion to -school.</p> - -<p>Yet when she saw the friends Ida had made, -and that their visits were not merely formal, she -looked with increased respect upon her little -helper, and planned for her more leisure, to the -end that Ida found herself in a new world, the -world of music and refinement.</p> - -<p>One of the homes opened to her was Billy’s. -Mrs. Bennett and her daughter often asked the -girl to dine, and in delicate ways assisted her, -lending books, suggesting reading, and helping -her with bits of sewing.</p> - -<p>During one of these visits she met Mrs. -Schmitz, who had been invited with her two -protégés to hear the quartette sing; and unknown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -to herself Ida acquired a new and ardent friend -in the bright German woman.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wright discovered that Ida could sing, -not in a trained way but in a true, sweet voice -“placed” by nature; and she asked her frequently -to the house, giving her many valuable -lessons.</p> - -<p>These occasions were often on Friday afternoons, -when she would stay to dinner and to the -“quartette practice.” Then it fell to Sydney to -take her home; and the friendship thus fostered -was the best thing that could have happened to -him; for he was compelled to talk, and soon -learned to do it “the same as if she were a -chap.”</p> - -<p>One day he was alone with Mrs. Schmitz in -the lily house. They had worked for some time -in silence when she asked suddenly, “How old -you think iss Miss Jones?”</p> - -<p>“She said she was eighteen.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus5"> -<img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“Mine leetle Ida would be eighteen already”</p> -</div> - -<p>A sigh that was almost a sob was her only reply,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -and she worked silently for some minutes, when -she said abruptly, “Mine leetle Ida would be -eighteen already.” She pronounced the name as -if it were spelled Eda.</p> - -<p>“How old was she when—when she—” -Sydney could not make himself finish the -sentence.</p> - -<p>“Last time I saw her she was five. But if she -live or if she iss dead I know not. Most times -I think she iss dead. To think she lives makes -me crazy almost, for I do not find her.”</p> - -<p>“Are you still looking—hunting—”</p> - -<p>“Always. All the time I have men paid to -hunt. But they do not find—her. They say -she iss dead.”</p> - -<p>Sydney was troubled at her distress. She continued -her work, but he saw tears falling on the -plants she handled. He had never seen her cry -before. Tears embarrassed him; and he pottered -about awkwardly, waiting for her to speak, wondering -if it would be more polite to “sneak”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -out of the lily house, or remain and give some -sign of sympathy. As a compromise he turned -his back and coughed apologetically, thoroughly -uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>Absorbed in her thoughts she forgot him and -time—which was passing so slowly for him—till -she needed his help in moving some fertilizer. -When they were both at work again she spoke.</p> - -<p>“I have never told you of mine family for it -was too much sorrow to speak of them. It iss -for that I like not to see girls. Some people -think I am down on girls. Not so. To see them -makes me think of mine leetle Ida. Miss Jones -iss a nice girl. I look at her last efening at -Mrs. Wright’s, look at her much; ant all night -I think of her; I cannot sleep.”</p> - -<p>“That’s too bad.” Sydney wished he could -think of something less inane to say, but no -words would come.</p> - -<p>“It was the shipwreck—when we came to -America, three of us, mine husband, leetle Ida,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -and mineself. All passengers they put in boats; -first the women; in the other boats some of the -men. I went down the shipside mit Ida on mine -arm, but the sailors say,’No,’ ant take her from -me to give me again when I am in the leetle -boat. Then comes the captain’s call to put no -more in that boat, ant a big wave takes us away, -ant I mitout mine baby go on the sea.” She -stopped and turned aside.</p> - -<p>“Gee! That was rough!” If the words -were not consoling the tone was, for Mrs. Schmitz -reached out and gave Sydney a grateful pat.</p> - -<p>“We came by another ship that took us on -board. One other boat full of people they save -by another ship that newspapers say went to -California. Ant in that paper passengers say -mine husband iss drowned in that third boat. No -one sees mine leetle Ida.”</p> - -<p>“Did you never hear any more?”</p> - -<p>“Not from her. I came by New York. I -advertise, I wait—wait. I am all alone; I speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -leetle English. I think some days I am crazy. -Then goes the money. I see I must make some -more. I come then to California, ant there I -hear that some of those people of the shipwreck -have already gone to Washington, so I come too.”</p> - -<p>“Was that long ago?”</p> - -<p>“Thirteen years already. I know something -about plants, so I get a job working here by a -nurseryman, by name Walker. I do well. I -make some new flowers for him that make him -much money. He dies four years ago already, -ant I buy this place from Mrs. Walker.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! You didn’t save all that money from -your wages, did you?”</p> - -<p>She smiled. “No. I make one big—bluff -some people call it; I call it trust in God. I pay -the leetle I have ant give a mortgage for the -rest.” She chuckled softly, ending with a sigh, -the echo of the sorrow she had combated with all -her forceful, cheery nature. “Mrs. Walker—she -thought I’d never pay; but I have.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What? Not for all of it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Since you came I got mine deed. -Next thing iss to buy some new furniture that -iss not all the time fighting mit the colors.”</p> - -<p>Sydney looked at her with deeper respect. He -knew the property was valuable. “I can’t see -how—other nurserymen make money, but not -so fast.”</p> - -<p>She stepped nearer and laid her hand impressively -on his. “Seedney, there iss a secret—love.”</p> - -<p>He looked his wonder, his mystification.</p> - -<p>“Listen. I tell you. Plant, tree, insect, animal—all -are God’s. His life iss in all. He -gifes all breath the same as man; that iss, life. -Then all are brothers; <i lang="de">nicht wahr</i>? I think so; -ant so I do. I love mine leetle plants same as if -they could speak. I watch them close, every -leetle thing I see. I talks mit them; for that they -better grow. That iss how I can make new -plants—what you say in English? create new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -colors, new roses. Those I send to Germany; for -them mine friends pay much money.”</p> - -<p>“Friends?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Already I make many friends mit the -nurserymen. I do most business there because -I write not the English goot, ant Germans like -the flowers grown far away.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t understand about the love part -of it.”</p> - -<p>“Hard that iss to explain in English. It iss -like this. When you know that God gifes life to -all, when you think this all the time, sitting down, -rising up, night ant day, then all anger leafes -you. Also the fear. You kill nothing if you can -help it, not even the snake. You love the birds -ant they sing for you. Bees will not sting you, -nor dogs bite you. All that iss nature turns to -you mit love, ant from you gets help. If so you -feel toward plants, you see things otherwise you -could not see; and that makes you wise to breed, -to make new plants to grow. I cannot tell you;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -it iss one secret everyone himself must discover. -Max already sees it.”</p> - -<p>“But if we don’t kill snakes and bad things, -they will kill us.”</p> - -<p>“Who says anything God makes iss bad? Let -the snake alone ant he will run. He flies away -as fast as man comes; into the wilderness he goes. -No creature hurts things only when he gets -afraid already. Even man iss goot if he iss not -afraid.”</p> - -<p>“But what about bad people? Grafters, -murderers?”</p> - -<p>“They are seek people, crazy mit the drink or -mit injustice, or mebbe from the parents they -get it. Most people are bad from fear. Fear -that they will not have enough to eat, or mebbe -their children. Suppose you have always plenty -work and plenty money, and know it iss always -to be so; will you steal?”</p> - -<p>“I’d be a fool to.”</p> - -<p>“But suppose you are not strong, you work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -hard, cannot do so well as the man next to you, -ant have hungry leetle children; ant soon you -get discharged. Chance to steal some money -comes, ant your leetle children are hungry. What -you do?”</p> - -<p>“I—I’m afraid to think of it.”</p> - -<p>“You see? We must not hate those people. -We must love them, help them, so they steal no -more.”</p> - -<p>Sydney looked up quickly. “That’s what -you did for Max; you trusted him first.”</p> - -<p>“You have said it. Trust helps to success. -You can make a man fail by telling him he will; -you can also make a man succeed by telling him -he will. After success comes plenty friends. -Friends! That kind are like flies, much in the -way.”</p> - -<p>Sydney laughed, and just then the five o’clock -whistle blew.</p> - -<p>“Mine gracious! So late already. Come. -We’ll have dinner soon ant then be ready for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -the musicale. Good iss Mrs. Wright to ask me. -It iss living once more to be mit people who make -the music. Mine father was forty years Herr -Kapellmeister, ant he wrote much music.”</p> - -<p>They went in. All through the dinner and -while dressing Sydney pondered her life in the -old country, wondering if, as Max believed, she -really had played before vast audiences, perhaps -before crowned heads. Not that crowned heads -made any difference to democratic Sydney; but -in Europe that is often made the test of highest -excellence.</p> - -<p>They found the Wright home lovely and fragrant -as spring fields, banked with wild green -things the boys had brought from the woods, -and starred with dogwood blossoms and spirea.</p> - -<p>The night was warm enough for open windows, -and when the three from the nursery arrived -many guests were present; and looking in -from the outside the scene must have reminded -Mrs. Schmitz of something in her past, for she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -stood still a moment on the porch, holding up -her hand for silence.</p> - -<p>“It iss beautiful! Ant see! Miss Jones—she -looks lovely in the efening gown. Ah! She -iss a goot girl! I know it!”</p> - -<p>Ida was near a window, wearing the same frock -she had worn at Bess’s party.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wright was unprepared for the magnificence -of Mrs. Schmitz, when she swept down the -stairway without her cloak. She wore a rich and -becoming gown remodeled from one of her old -ones, and a few rare jewels. The long train lent -height to her massive body; and the lines of skirt -and bodice gave her an elegance that was entirely -lost in the squat effect of her ordinary severely -tailored street suit.</p> - -<p>Sydney looked at her again and again. That -day in the lily house she had been wonderful; -but tonight she was some one else he felt, and he -was shy about speaking to her. But Max was -not; he paid her extravagant compliments and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -with pride introduced her to his friends, and to -Dr. and Mrs. Carter.</p> - -<p>They belonged together, those two, Sydney -thought; not because of any physical resemblance -between the slender, aristocratic looking -boy and the big woman, but because each possessed -a spirit that compelled attention, that won -all, that was the essence of good breeding, world -wide.</p> - -<p>There was no bitterness in Sydney’s attitude -now; he was beginning to recognize the value of -daily association with Max.</p> - -<p>The musicale progressed much as musicales -usually do; yet for two people it became the -greatest occasion in the world.</p> - -<p>Toward the close of the program Mrs. Wright -persuaded Ida to sing, explaining to the audience -the youth and inexperience of her “song -bird.” Ida’s simple ballad, sung without affectation -in her fresh voice, pleased them all and won -an encore.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - -<p>She stood again and sang without accompaniment -a plaintive German song, a sweet, tender -tune that lingered even after she took her seat.</p> - -<p>With the first note Mrs. Schmitz bent forward, -lips parted, her wide eyes fixed on the -girl. Sydney, watching Ida, saw her look their -way; saw her countenance change, though she -continued steadily to the end.</p> - -<p>But when he looked again at Mrs. Schmitz -he knew that it was her face, white as the dogwood -blossom hanging above her, not his, that -arrested the singer’s eye.</p> - -<p>“Seedney!” the German said quietly as soon -as the song ended, “you bring Miss Jones to -me—in the hall—no, on the porch, I must -speak to her. It iss of great importance. -Hurry!”</p> - -<p>Still holding herself to quietness she rose and -passed through the door to the porch.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">Mrs. Schmitz was waiting in a deserted -corner of the porch far from the noisy -company around the punch bowl; and when Sydney -came forward with Ida, she stepped toward -them, reaching both hands to the wondering girl, -and asking in a tremulous voice,</p> - -<p>“Girl! Girl! Where learned you that -song?”</p> - -<p>“I think my mother must have taught it to -me when I was very little; I can’t remember when -I did not sing it.”</p> - -<p>“Your mutter—do you remember her?”</p> - -<p>Ida looked around startled, and again at Mrs. -Schmitz. “Oh, sometimes I think I can; a tall, -lovely woman, not large like you. Then it fades,—that -picture, and I see nothing but darkness -and—” She shivered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Ant water?” Mrs. Schmitz volunteered -excitedly.</p> - -<p>“Yes. How—do you know?”</p> - -<p>“How do I know? Because you are mine -leetle Ida! Because mine father write that song -for you, and taught it to you. And it never was -printed, ant no one sings it but mine leetle Ida!” -She smoothed back the girl’s hair, and studied -her face anxiously.</p> - -<p>“That’s true. No one sings it but me.”</p> - -<p>“Ant I was that tall woman; in America I -grow fat.”</p> - -<p>“Ida! Ida,” the girl mused, giving the name -its German sound. “They used to call me so; -I can dimly remember.”</p> - -<p>With one sweep of her loving arms Mrs. -Schmitz took the girl to her heart, so long hungry -for her child. Ida, who had drifted from -the orphan asylum to one home after another, -had found at last the mother for whom she had -so long prayed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was the daughter who first noticed that -others had approached. The discovery of her -mother had changed her whole future. In a moment, -almost in a breath, the shadowy hand of -family relationship had reached across the sea, -bringing dim memories of her native land and -speech; had given her a family where before she -had been a lonely waif. Yet, for this is the -way of youth, the present moment seemed the all -important one to her.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="de">Mutterchen</i>,” she whispered, and knew not -that she said “mother dear,” in German; “they -are looking at us.”</p> - -<p>The mother, older and wiser, looked both ways -on life, to the past and to the future. Not only -had her heart massed the longing and sadness of -dreary years and flung it to the winds in this -instant of glad discovery; she was also planning -for the future. No wonder she had no eyes for -people, time, or place; for anything but this -miracle of happiness; her child was found!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> - -<p>But once recalled, her innate courtesy -prompted the kind course. With a long embrace -that held the pent tenderness of years, she released -Ida, and they went quietly in. After the -other guests had gone Mrs. Schmitz told her -story to the rejoicing Wrights, Max, and Billy -and his mother.</p> - -<p>She wished to take Ida home with her that -very night, but was surprised with opposition.</p> - -<p>“I think I should stay where I am till the end -of the semester. That is only a week or so; and -it will inconvenience Mrs. Patton for me to go -away now.”</p> - -<p>“But what will she do in summer time? Seedney -tells me summer times you work for money -to buy your clothes.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but that is all planned for. When -school closes they are going to the country; they -have made their arrangements.”</p> - -<p>“So? Well, then I’ll hire a good servant to -take your place.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ida hesitated. It was a great temptation; yet -her duty was clear, as her mother could see by -her decision. “A stranger would be a lot of -bother for such a short time. The little children -would be afraid of her, and the big ones wouldn’t -mind her, and Mrs. Patton couldn’t leave the -baby with her, and—Oh, don’t you see? I -want to be with you, but I must stay where I -am till vacation begins.”</p> - -<p>For an instant no one spoke. Mrs. Schmitz -did not conceal her disappointment, yet she did -a strange thing. She rose from her chair and -drew Ida up beside her, gazing into her eyes, -smoothing back her hair, noting every feature of -her small, expressive face. She saw the loveliness -there and her mother’s pride rejoiced in it; -but she was looking deeper, was singing in her -heart a song of joy.</p> - -<p>“Mine child, for those words I love you more. -Already you are like your father ant grandfather. -Also like mine goot mutter, so much to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -think of others. You stay, yes; but I shall hire -the Japanese boy to do much work for you, -scrub, clean, ant do things mit the dishrag.”</p> - -<p>She joked a little to keep back the tears, and -saw Ida go away with Sydney, while she started -home with Max.</p> - -<p>Both were silent till they had left the car and -were walking toward the nursery, when Max -said, with a cadence of regret in his voice, “I’ll -never find another home like yours in the City of -Green Hills.”</p> - -<p>She whirled, blocking his way. “You are not -going. You ant Seedney are still mine boys.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll be in the way.”</p> - -<p>“Never! You are mine mascot. Seedney iss -mine strong right hand. I got plenty rooms. -Don’t you see?” Under the arc light he saw -her face beaming with the joy of planning. -“That’s what for I save mine best room mit the -porch; that iss now Ida’s. Ant we will have a -quartette, four parts.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>Inside the house they discussed that matter and -many others, excitedly. In imagination they -refurnished the house, disputing whether pink or -blue would be nicest for Ida. Max and his new -sister went through the university, Max deciding -his profession; and they were hotly debating the -question whether Ida’s voice could be developed -into a high dramatic soprano, or would only be -a mezzo soprano, when Sydney came, Sydney, -the practical.</p> - -<p>“It’s half past two,” he warned. “Max, if -you don’t behave, Ida will lose her mother as -soon as she’s found her. You gink! can’t you -see our mother-on-the-side is worn to a frazzle?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz laughed and started toward the -hall. “Goot Seedney!” she called back. “Ida -finds already two fine brothers; one, Max, to -make her fly mit the clouds; ant Seedney, to hold -her to the earth, from which all our life must -come. She iss a lucky girl.”</p> - -<p>“The nursery is all right for the night,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -embarrassed Sydney said by way of changing -the subject. “The temperature has dropped; I -turned on the heat for the orchids.”</p> - -<p>She patted his arm. “Goot boy! Goot night, -two goot boys,” she said cheerily in another tone, -and left them.</p> - -<p>At school the silent prejudice against Max -had shown itself in looks, in subtle ways impossible -to define, and in the fact that he was omitted -from some of the class affairs. Yet as the -weeks passed he could feel it decline.</p> - -<p>Billy was the best of friends. He told Max -that all the “good ones of the bunch” liked him -from the day he went back to school and marched -boldly up to Walter in the presence of his special -friends and said, “Mr. Buckman, when one -does wrong the only way he can atone is to make -good for it if possible, and live it down. I paid -for the food I took, as you know; and I intend -to stay in Fifth Avenue High till I graduate. -Some day I may get even with you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> - -<p>The words were not a menace. Max’s face -and tone were kind, greatly puzzling Walter. -When he least expected it and in the most astonishing -way Walter was to acknowledge that -Max was more than even.</p> - -<p>It was perhaps two weeks after the musicale -that Max and Sydney were at Billy’s, planning -and rehearsing some of the details of Billy’s -play. It was well on the way toward presentation. -He had worked hard, beginning in early -autumn, and revising again and again, till at -last he had won high commendation from his -teacher of English, who had spurred him to -write it.</p> - -<p>A committee from each high school in the city -would hear it, and on their joint decision rested -the award of the prize. If Billy won it would -be for the honor of his school as well as for -himself.</p> - -<p>Late in the afternoon Billy’s small cousin, -Madge Price—little Miss Snow, her brother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -Hec called her because of her white hair—ran -in, gesticulating wildly, scarcely able to speak -coherently.</p> - -<p>“Quick! Come! It’s Dottie Buckman! She’s -all swallowed up! She’ll be dead in a minute!”</p> - -<p>Before she had finished, Billy swung her to his -arm and ran out with her, questioning as he -went. Max and Sydney followed. Around the -corner they hurried to where the city, in the -process of street grading, had made a huge cut.</p> - -<p>Instantly they knew. All the children in the -neighborhood played there at “making caves.” -Many little hands had worked far into the sand -bank, easy to dig yet damp and hard packed -enough to stay in place. But at last the root-netted -crust above became too thin to support -its weight, and had fallen, imprisoning the little -child in its fatal clutch.</p> - -<p>“Oh, oh! She’ll be all dead!” Madge cried -piteously as Billy put her down.</p> - -<p>Heedless of her, the boys frantically tore at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -the earth with their hands. Billy grasped the -situation, as Max could see, while he snatched -at the earth with inadequate fingers.</p> - -<p>“Run, Madge! Tell mother, everybody! Tell -them to bring shovels!” Billy commanded, and -sent out ringing calls for help in every direction.</p> - -<p>There were no men near at that hour, and only -women came running with every sort of an implement -from a shovel to kitchen spoons; but -they worked as frantically as the boys.</p> - -<p>“Some one get a basin of water,” Max commanded.</p> - -<p>“Who’s going to stop to drink water?” Billy -asked sarcastically.</p> - -<p>No one halted to answer, least of all Max. He -had a fierce sort of strength that outmatched -sturdy Sydney and even big, strong Billy. He -drove his shovel deeper, piled it higher, and plied -it faster than any one else. The perspiration -poured from him, yet he shivered with dread of -what they should presently see.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Out of my way!” he cried to a hysterical -woman who ran in front of him, and did no -work herself. “Take her away, Billy!” he demanded -in a voice that would be obeyed, the long, -rapid sweep of his arms never halting, never -slacking, indeed, moving more swiftly with each -dip of the shovel. He did not see or know that -the woman slipped back at his first fierce word.</p> - -<p>It seemed hours, in reality it was less than -minutes, when a fragment of a little skirt was -uncovered.</p> - -<p>“Here she is!” Max shouted wildly; and the -boys worked with more fury, till presently three -pairs of hands drew the limp little figure to the -light, apparently dead.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="illus6"> -<img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="440" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“Here she is!” Max shouted wildly</p> -</div> - -<p>A motor car was standing alone in front of a -house near by. While they were working, Max -had noticed it and planned for it.</p> - -<p>“One of you run and crank up that machine. -Quick!” he ordered.</p> - -<p>“I will! I know it; it belongs to one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -neighbors.” Billy was off, shouting back as he -ran.</p> - -<p>Now they knew what the water was for. Max -plunged his handkerchief into it, opened the little -sand-filled mouth and wiped it clear; the -nostrils the same. Far out he pulled the small -tongue. “Hold it so,” he directed Sydney, while -he continued with the cleansing water.</p> - -<p>The machine rolled up, and before it could -stop, or hardly halt its speed, Max with the child -in his arms sprang in, Sydney behind him carrying -the basin.</p> - -<p>“The nearest doctor,” Max called, but unnecessarily, -for Billy understood, knew well -which doctor lived nearest, and was already on -the way.</p> - -<p>Down the street they flew, heedless of the -shouts of the irate owner of the car, while Max -and Sydney worked hard to restore breath to the -smothered child.</p> - -<p>Again and again Max dipped the useful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -handkerchief into the basin, wiping off the little -face. Gently he pressed down her chest and -released the pressure in even movements.</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you drive, Billy?” he called -desperately.</p> - -<p>Billy was driving as he never had before, using -every ounce of power he could make. He too -felt the wheels creep, and pumped the gasoline -more recklessly, while he went hot and cold at -the thought of being too late.</p> - -<p>It was a beautiful afternoon and the streets -were full of women and children, sauntering or -playing in the freedom and security of the quiet -residence district. In and out among them, honking -and shouting, Billy wove his perilous course, -praying fervently if not consciously that he -might not kill one child while trying to save -another.</p> - -<p>It was not till an officer swooped down upon -him from a cross street that he knew how fast -he was going. In long leaps the galloping horse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -made losing speed beside the machine, the officer -shouting raucously at Billy to stop, and waving -his club with menace.</p> - -<p>“It’s life and death!” shouted Billy, driving -on still faster.</p> - -<p>In a second more he was at the physician’s -door; but not before the anxious boys in the -tonneau imagined they had seen a tiny flutter of -the little eyelids; thought they felt a faint lift -of the bosom. Yet they dared not hope; the -motion of the car was deceiving.</p> - -<p>They were fortunate to find the doctor in, one -of the few to keep an office in the residence -district. From Max’s trembling arms he took -the little one and laid her on the operating table, -questioning while he began a skillful examination, -the boys watching silently, fearing yet longing -to hear his verdict.</p> - -<p>He took no time for words save a few commands -when, needing assistance, he forced something -between her lips, drop by drop.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> - -<p>In a moment they saw a movement of her lips. -Presently they could see her breath coming, and -at last her eyes opened—opened slowly and -closed again, showing no intelligence; and Max -looked anxiously into the doctor’s noncommittal -face, trying to read it.</p> - -<p>How the moments dragged for the watching -boys! The doctor’s face grew sterner with each -second, and Max began to lose courage, keeping -his eyes from the other boys, when a soft moan -broke the silence, and following that, incoherent -sounds from the stiff, sand-roughened lips of -the child.</p> - -<p>The doctor straightened. His face relaxed in -a smile. To the boys it seemed as if he had been -suddenly released from some dreadful ordeal. -Sternness melted in tenderness, and his hand had -the gentleness of a mother’s as he smoothed back -the matted hair and spoke cheering words.</p> - -<p>“Hi there, baby! It’s all right now, little -one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - -<p>Slowly the child’s gaze wandered from one to -another, half frightened, only half aroused.</p> - -<p>Billy thrust his head within her view. “Want -to go home, Taddie?”</p> - -<p>That was Walter’s pet name for her and it -further aroused her. She knew Billy and feebly -reached out her arms to him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, we’ll take her home,” the doctor said. -“The sight of her mother will be best medicine -now.” With that they stepped into the car and -drove to Mr. Buckman’s house, arriving to find -it in great commotion.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wright and Billy’s mother had been out -when the accident occurred; but the story of -Madge, who had been playing with Dottie, added -to the conflicting reports of the neighbors, had -terribly frightened Mrs. Buckman. She had -telephoned the police department, called her husband, -and had their own physician waiting when -the boys brought her darling safely to her arms.</p> - -<p>The doctors joined in a further examination,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -while in an adjoining room, by Mr. Buckman’s -order, the three boys waited the result. They -were still under great tension, and restless while -the tall clock ticked off the interminable minutes, -one by one.</p> - -<p>But at last the door opened to admit the men; -and the boys heard a soft sobbing, and the -mother’s voice speaking a torrent of endearing -words over her rescued child.</p> - -<p>“Tell them—thank—Oh, James, you -know what to say,” she called after her husband -in a voice tremulous with tears of joy.</p> - -<p>Before he could speak, Walter ran in, disheveled, -haggard, and closing the door, stood -behind his father.</p> - -<p>“Tell me, young man,” the second doctor -asked Max, “how it happened you knew enough -to treat that child as you did? But for that -nothing could have saved her. As it was, it was -a mighty close shave.”</p> - -<p>“My father’s a doctor, and I have sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -been with him on emergency cases, and seen him -work. Besides he told me a few things.” Max -spoke modestly in a voice weak from excitement -and hard work.</p> - -<p>“He did more than that,” Billy put in -quickly. “He worked at the digging faster than -any of us; he had twice the power of Mumps and -me, though we tried as hard as we could, and he -thought of everything, and—”</p> - -<p>“We all did as much as we could,” Max interrupted; -“if either one had done less it wouldn’t -have been enough.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true. Yet your knowledge of what -to do after she was uncovered saved the child. -Mr. Buckman, thank him for your little girl’s -life.”</p> - -<p>Max hung back and was about to speak again -when Walter pushed forward and caught Max -by both hands. “I—I am the one who owes -you everything, Max Ball!”</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing,” Max objected, too upset to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -realize what he was saying; “I—I guess I’m -even with you.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Buckman stared at them wonderingly, -and the two doctors waited a minute in embarrassed -silence, realizing that here was a matter -quite out of their province. With the promise of -another visit later in the evening, they departed, -leaving Mr. Buckman gazing questioningly at -his agitated son.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you don’t know what reason you have -to be ashamed of me, father,” Walter burst out; -“I’ll never be able to look you in the face again.”</p> - -<p>He told his story, how he had listened behind -the portieres when Max made his confession, -how jealous he had been of Max’s popularity at -school, and the way he had revenged himself.</p> - -<p>“What? You that plucky chap that came -here last winter?” Ignoring Walter, Mr. Buckman -strode forward and grasped Max by the -hand. “I wondered what had become of you. -Now you cross my threshold again to bring my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -little daughter who, but for you, would be dead.” -He turned away. Stern and proud, he could not -trust his voice.</p> - -<p>For a moment there was absolute silence. -Mr. Buckman still held Max by the hand, while -the rest waited for him to speak again, Walter -with his back to the others, his shoulders drooping, -the figure of abject shame.</p> - -<p>“I want to see you in my office—soon; to-morrow. -I want to talk with you. A chap who -can do the plucky things—”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t any more than they did,” Max -began, determined that Billy and Sydney should -be recognized.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I know all of you saved my little -girl; but only one sick, neglected boy came alone -to face me and make restitution for a fault. -That’s what I’m remembering now. I wish to -God I had a son like that!” He wheeled and -walked rapidly out of the room.</p> - -<p>“Oh, father! father!” It was a desperate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -cry. Walter ran toward the door but it closed -in his face. He threw himself against it and, -heedless of listeners, sobbed like a heart-broken -child.</p> - -<p>For an embarrassed instant the other three -stood stock-still and looked at the floor. They -did not know what to do. Mentally numb from -the strain they had undergone, this added distress -bewildered them.</p> - -<p>It was Billy who first roused to the proper -thing. “Beat it, kids!” he whispered hoarsely; -and they scrambled out, leaving Walter quite -unconscious of their departure.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> - -<p class="dropcap">That race with death for the life of little -Dottie Buckman brought such intense -fatigue to Max that he did not that night think -much about what Mr. Buckman might have to -say to him; but the next day the coming interview -mixed itself exasperatingly with books and -recitations. He built all sorts of extravagant -plans for the future; scoffed at himself for them, -and was chagrined to find that the mere notion -of good fortune could so distract him.</p> - -<p>But when late that afternoon he was admitted -to find Mr. Buckman busy at his desk, his dreams -seemed very foolish. The atmosphere of severity -that pervaded the office sobered him; and as the -absorbed man did not look up, Max seated himself -quietly to wait till he should be noticed.</p> - -<p>At business the man looked the master he was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -Power showed in every movement of his broad -hand; sternness in every feature of his large, -deeply lined face. He was one to drive important -enterprises to success against the greatest -odds; the only kind of man who is able to conquer -the territory of the Northwest where nature, -though lavish, makes harsh resistance.</p> - -<p>Yet Max could read in that severe face love of -justice, scorn of pettiness, and pride of personal -honor.</p> - -<p>When he looked up and saw Max the lines -in his face broke from sternness to pleasure and -he rose and shook hands cordially.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been expecting you, my boy,” he said -kindly, pointing to a nearer chair. “I’ve -thought of you all day.”</p> - -<p>It was a long conference. Mr. Buckman insisted -on supporting Max while he finished his -education. He wished him to leave Mrs. Schmitz -at the beginning of the university year and go -to a chapter house where he could use all of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -time for study and other student interests—no -doubt of Max’s ability to “make” a fraternity -occurred to him. For this he told Max he had -already arranged to pay him an allowance of one -hundred dollars a month.</p> - -<p>Max was intuitive; was able in mind to spring -forward to the future, seeing at a glimpse all -the long path to be traveled, as a bird, skimming -the ether high above the earth, sees the great -panorama spread below and her destination -almost before she sets out.</p> - -<p>So Max saw that no matter how kind and generous -Mr. Buckman might mean to be, and -really be, this course would bind Max to him for -the future. Though he should accept the offer -as a loan—and his pride was robust enough -to allow it to be a loan only—he saw that deviation -from the man’s wishes would mean to him -ingratitude, a breach of fidelity.</p> - -<p>It was to escape a similar situation that Max -had run away from home. Could he give a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -stranger what he would not give his father, who -had so much greater right to exact it—the absolute -surrender of his own wishes?</p> - -<p>He found it hard to explain himself. Every -argument he offered was met by a stronger one. -The financier was bent on doing something large -and splendid for the boy who had saved his child; -and he would not accept Max’s refusal.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Buckman, were you always rich?” Max -asked, a touch of desperation in his tone.</p> - -<p>“Indeed, no. I was a poor farmer boy—made -every dollar I have.” The pride of the -self-made man was in his loud voice. “I carved -my fortune out of this land—the timber, the -water power, its rivers and sea.”</p> - -<p>“What if some one, when you were a boy, had -compelled you to take up medicine, or the law, -or to be a minister? Would you?”</p> - -<p>“By George, no! I wasn’t the sort for life -in a chair. I wanted to be out fighting things; -would like to be outside now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Even if you had not gained riches you would -have wished to have a voice in planning your life, -wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“My boy, I don’t want to plan your life for -you; I only want to help you carry out your -own plans.”</p> - -<p>Max was helpless. He felt Mr. Buckman’s -present sincerity; yet he knew that one who said, -“Go!” or “Come!” to scores of men who -obeyed absolutely, would expect obedience from -anyone who took his money. Deceit would be -the alternative.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he realized a little of the reason for -Walter’s failure to please his father; unlimited -pocket money, the flattery of his fellows, and -the easy but fatal path of duplicity.</p> - -<p>At last Max spoke resolutely. “Mr. Buckman, -something in me makes it impossible to accept -your offer. I don’t believe you yourself -would think as well of me if I did.”</p> - -<p>Surprised, the man looked steadily at Max a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -moment before replying. “I believe you’re -right, boy. You’re a new sort of youngster to -me. Go ahead in your own way. Only you must -promise me this: if you ever need money, for -school or business, come to me. Will you? Will -you promise that?”</p> - -<p>“If—if I need it pretty badly I’ll come. -I’ll come before I have to rob ice boxes.” They -both smiled, and the tension was broken.</p> - -<p>After some further talk the interview ended, -and Max left the office knowing he had won -respect instead of merely gratitude. It had been -a hard hour; and considering he had “turned -down” a hundred dollars a month he thought -it strange that he should feel so buoyant.</p> - -<p>Whistling gayly as he walked from the car, he -opened the door of his home to meet a stranger, -a small, quiet-spoken man with an inscrutable -face, who rose at once and held out a copy of -the morning paper. “Are you the young man -mentioned here as Max Ball?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> - -<p>The paper had published a long, sensational -account of the event of the previous day, magnifying -Max’s part in it, giving a garbled story of -his life in the city, and asserting that he would -become the beneficiary of Mr. Buckman.</p> - -<p>Max admitted his identity, but denied the closing -statement.</p> - -<p>Question after question the man asked, questions -that seemed apropos of nothing at first; -but they slowly, circuitously led to facts in -Max’s life that he had intended never to disclose.</p> - -<p>It seemed as if he were on trial for a crime -he had not committed, and was being proven certainly -guilty. As often as possible he took refuge -in silence; but the man was able to compel -speech, to make him tell all he knew and more -besides.</p> - -<p>“What is all this for?” Max importuned for -the third time, when the man was closing his -notebook.</p> - -<p>“That I am not at liberty to mention.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m all straight; honest, I am!” Max -pleaded. “And whatever you think you’ve -found against me, I don’t want my—the lady -here who has been so good to me, to be drawn -into it. I can’t have her troubled.”</p> - -<p>A slight change softened the inquisitor’s face. -“I think we won’t need to annoy her. Perhaps -you are more anxious yourself than is necessary.” -With this he left Max to a long evening -of distress.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz was dining out that night, and -he fidgeted for hours, wondering what the strange -grilling could portend. But she was so late in -returning that he concluded he must not disturb -her, and went to bed in a ferment of excitement -and bafflement.</p> - -<p>With the dark his worries loomed larger. -Could it be possible that at some place where he -had worked things were missing, and at this -late day they were suspecting him? Wild visions -of prosecution, conviction on circumstantial evidence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -and jail filled Max with terror, and when -delayed sleep finally came, they persisted in -troubled dreams.</p> - -<p>The morning sun scattered his fears and a -talk with Mrs. Schmitz wiped them out; though -when the ringing of the doorbell interrupted -them, her parting remark lodged a new idea, not -a fear but an anxiety.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you be troubling about stealings you -never did, nor police, nor things like that. Some -one iss hunting you; it will be your father!”</p> - -<p>It was Billy coming with a cheerful message, -which he delivered without the ceremony of other -greetings.</p> - -<p>“Max, old boy, you’re it, all righty. I was -over to see May Nell last night. Mr. Smith was -there, and I told him about what you did the -other day—”</p> - -<p>“What we did,” Max corrected.</p> - -<p>“No interruptions. May Nell had told him -how Walter treated you and how you stood it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -and Mr. Smith said, ‘Tell that young chap to -call on me. I’ve employment and promotion -for men of that stamp. Most anyone can make -good in the sunshine on a smooth road; but the -man who plods alone in the dark and uphill is -the one I can trust.’”</p> - -<p>“He meant you, Billy. Mumps told me all -about how Jim Barney treated you, and how you -worked all summer with robbery hanging over -you because you wouldn’t tell on a girl; and—”</p> - -<p>“Cut it! That’s ancient history. It was Mr. -Smith I worked for, and my job’s waiting for -me whenever I want it. What I have for you -is business for today. Right now! This minute! -Mr. Smith wants you to come to see him. -Understand?”</p> - -<p>“But I can’t go to work yet. Mrs. -Schmitz—”</p> - -<p>“He doesn’t want you right away, only to -chin with you a bit; to catch you before some one -else nabs you. He’s all the time looking for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -‘young timber well-seasoned and straight-grown,’ -as he calls it, to put into his business.”</p> - -<p>“How can he tell timber before it is tried -out?”</p> - -<p>“That’s just it. He thinks you have been -tried out.”</p> - -<p>Max pondered a moment, amazed by the many -opportunities offering, by the strange things happening -to him. But back of all perplexities -stood a calm, strong figure, Mrs. Schmitz. And -in contrast to the stress and strain he knew he -must meet if he went to work for Mr. Smith or -Mr. Buckman, he saw the warm, fragrant nursery -with its mysteries of nature ever inviting -study, and busy, happy evenings with music, his -goddess.</p> - -<p>It was but an instant that he was silent, his -gaze fixed on the floor in an abstraction that Billy -respected though it seemed long to him before -Max spoke.</p> - -<p>“Billy, it’s jolly good of you to do so much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -for me; and kind of Mr. Smith, too. But when -he knows my plans I believe he will advise me -to stick to them.”</p> - -<p>“What are they?”</p> - -<p>“Work for Mrs. Schmitz till I learn her business -as well as she knows it.”</p> - -<p>“What then?”</p> - -<p>“She wants me for her partner.”</p> - -<p>“Hooray for you! But you’ll have to give -up your music.”</p> - -<p>“No; she wishes me to go on with that. She -says music and flowers go together, and that -flowers will support me while I am conquering -the violin. After that she—she thinks I’ll do -something unusual. I shall try not to disappoint -her.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! Luck’s coming your way all right. -No, you’ve just gone and collared the witch.”</p> - -<p>“I guess that’s the only way to win her.”</p> - -<p>They went away together to attend to many -pressing matters concerning the play, which was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -only two days off. And the hurry and excitement -pushed other disturbing thoughts out of -Max’s mind till it was over, so successfully -over that it won the coveted literary prize for -the Fifth Avenue High.</p> - -<p>But the day after, when Max was tired and -depressed from loss of sleep, all his anxieties -returned; and they were many, for he had -imagined a hundred different dilemmas behind -that strange interview.</p> - -<p>He was playing softly in the cool parlor, trying -to forget his worries, when a tall, distinguished -looking man was ushered in. Max -turned, and almost dropped his violin. “Father! -Oh, father, you are ill!”</p> - -<p>“Not ill now—now that I have found you.” -He held out his arms.</p> - -<p>Forgetting all his past resolves, Max threw -himself into those open arms and returned their -close, passionate embrace. “Father! I’m so -glad!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My boy! You cannot be half so glad as I. -Do you forgive me?”</p> - -<p>Max was astonished. His father asking forgiveness! -“Don’t ask that! I—I am the -one.”</p> - -<p>“No. I was the older one. I should have -been the wiser, known my son better. All this -long dreadful year that I have searched for you, -I have known that it was my unreasonable command -that you should give up music entirely and -study law whether you liked it or not, that drove -you from home. It was my bitter lesson.”</p> - -<p>Max noted the thinner figure, the lines of sorrow -in his face, and the gray in his hair that had -been shining black the last time he saw it; and -he understood a little of the grief that had walked -by his father’s side day and night for the longest -year of his life.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Schmitz, hearing voices, came in and met -Max’s father as a friend. “I have been expecting -you already. I knew you would be finding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -him, Mr. Ballantree. Mine own daughter -after thirteen years comes out of the sea to me; -much easier was it for you to find Max.”</p> - -<p>Briefly they discussed the search, coming soon -to Max’s future.</p> - -<p>“What do you wish, my son? To stay here -or come home with me?”</p> - -<p>How different was this from the heated -words, sounding so terrible in young ears, that -had driven Max from home. “I’d rather see -you dead than a miserable fiddler!” the father -had said, standing before his library fire, and not -looking up when his son left the room for the -last time.</p> - -<p>Max told of Mrs. Schmitz’s goodness, her wisdom, -and her business offer, not omitting the -future he hoped for with his violin. “But if -you wish it I will go with you and try to make -a success of law.”</p> - -<p>The sad, careworn look came again to the -man’s face, but before he could speak Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -Schmitz broke in. “The law iss it? Will you -ask him to that?”</p> - -<p>“No. I ask nothing of him, except that he -shall try to be a good man and—and love his -old father a little.”</p> - -<p>His voice trembled, and Max went to him, -putting his arm across his shoulders. “I shall -always do that, father. I think I understand -you now.”</p> - -<p>“Ach! If fathers only would remember that -when the goot God cuts out a boy mit the pattern -of a fiddler he iss not intending to make a -lawyer to settle fights. Mit music you settle -fights better anyways.”</p> - -<p>“You are right. Mothers know best. His -did, but I wouldn’t listen to her. The boy stays -with you, Mrs. Schmitz. You saved him.”</p> - -<p>When Mr. Ballantree left shortly for his -eastern home it was to arrange his affairs for removing -to Washington, the state that Max chose -for his future home.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">THE END</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Billy To-morrow's Chums, by Sarah Pratt Carr - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BILLY TO-MORROW'S CHUMS *** - -***** This file should be named 54749-h.htm or 54749-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/7/4/54749/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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