VIII "WE'RE TO HAVE OUR PICNIC!"

  And that afternoon Polly kept back bad recollections of the gloomymorning at school as well as she could. She didn't let Alexia get theleast bit of a hint about it, although how she ever escaped letting herfind it out, she never could quite tell, but rattled on, all themessages the girls had sent, and every bit of school news she couldthink of.

  "Were the other girls who went to Silvia's, at school?" asked Alexiasuddenly, and twitching up her pillow to get higher in bed, for Dr.Fisher had said she mustn't get up this first day; and a hard piece ofwork Mother Fisher had had to keep the aunt out of the room.

  "I wouldn't go in," Mamsie would say; "Dr. Fisher doesn't wish her to bedisturbed. To-morrow, Miss Rhys." And it was all done so quietly thatAlexia's aunt would find herself off down in the library again and busywith a book, very much to her own surprise.

  "I'll shake 'em up," Polly cried; and hopping off from the foot of thebed, she thumped the pillows, if not with a merry, at least with avigorous hand. "There now," crowding them in back of Alexia's restlesshead, "isn't that fine?"

  "I should think it was," exclaimed Alexia with a sigh of satisfaction,and giving her long figure a contented stretch; "you do know just thebest things to do, Polly Pepper. Well, tell on. I suppose Amy Garrett isperfectly delighted to cut that old art lecture."

  "Oh, Professor Mills didn't come at all," said Polly. That brought itall back about Miss Anstice, and her head drooped suddenly.

  "Didn't come? oh dear!" And Alexia fell to laughing so, that she didn'tnotice Polly's face at all. But her aunt popping in, she became sober atonce, and ran her head under the bedclothes.

  "Oh, are you worse? is she, Polly?" cried Miss Rhys all in a flutter. "Iheard her cry, I thought."

  "No, I was laughing," said Alexia, pulling up her face red and shining."Do go right away, aunt. Dr. Fisher said Polly was to tell me things."

  "Well, if you are not worse," said her aunt, slowly turning away.

  "No," said Alexia. "Polly Pepper, do get up and shut that door," shecried; "slam it, and lock it."

  "Oh, no," said Polly, in dismay at the very thought, "I couldn't ever dothat, Alexia."

  "Well, then I will." Alexia threw back the bedclothes with a desperatehand, and thrust one foot out.

  "If you do," said Polly, not moving from where she sat on the foot ofthe bed, "I shall go out of this room, and not come back to-day."

  "Shall you really?" cried Alexia, fixing her pale eyes on her.

  "Yes, indeed I shall," said Polly firmly.

  "Oh, then I'm not going." Alexia drew in her foot, and huddled all theclothes up over her head. "Polly Pepper," she said in muffled tones,"you're a perfectly dreadful creature, and if you'd gone and sprainedyour arm in a horrible old railway accident and were tied in bed, I'd dojust everything you said, I would."

  "Oh, I hope you wouldn't," said Polly.

  "Hope I wouldn't!" screamed Alexia, flinging all the clothes away againto stare at Polly out of very wide eyes. "Whatever do you mean, PollyPepper?"

  "I hope you wouldn't do as I wanted you to," said Polly distinctly, "ifI wanted something that was bad."

  "Well, that's a very different thing," mumbled Alexia. "Oh dear me!" Shegave a grimace at a twinge of pain in her arm. "This isn't bad; I onlywanted that door shut."

  "Oh now, Alexia, you've hurt your arm!" cried Polly; "do keep still,else Papa-Doctor won't let me stay in here."

  "Oh dear, dear! I'll keep still," promised Alexia, making up her mindthat horses shouldn't drag any expression of pain from her after that.

  "I mean, do sit up straight against your pillows; you've got 'em allmussed up again," cried Polly. So she hopped off from the bed, andthumped them into shape once more.

  "I wish you'd turn 'em over," said Alexia: "they're so hot on thatside." So Polly whisked over the pillows, and patted them straight, andAlexia sank back against them again.

  "Wouldn't you like me to smooth your hair, Alexia?" asked Polly. "Mamsiedoes that to me when I don't feel good."

  "Yes, I should," said Alexia, "like it very much indeed, Polly."

  So Polly, feeling quite happy, albeit the remembrance of the morningstill lay deep in her mind, ran off for the brush and comb. "And I'mgoing to braid it all over," she said with great satisfaction, "afterI've rubbed your head."

  "Well, now tell on," said Alexia, as Polly climbed up back of thepillows, and began to smooth the long light fluffs of hair, trying to doit just as Mamsie always did for her. "You say Professor Mills didn'tcome--oh dear! and think of that black silk gown wasted on the girls.Well, I suppose she was cross as two sticks because he didn't come,wasn't she, Polly? Oh dear me! well, I'm glad I wasn't there," shehurried on, not waiting for a reply; "I'd rather be in with this oldbundle"--she patted her bandages--"Oh Polly!" She started up so suddenlythat the brush flew out of Polly's lap and spun away across the floor."Take care," said Polly, "oh, there goes the comb now," and she skippeddown, recovered the articles, and jumped up to her post again. "What isit, Alexia?"

  "Why, I've just thought--you don't suppose Miss Salisbury will appointthe day for the picnic, do you, while my arm is lame?"

  The color in Polly's cheeks went out, and she was glad that she couldget well behind the pillows.

  "Oh, no, Alexia," she made herself say, "we wouldn't ever in all thisworld have the picnic till you were well. How could you think it,Alexia?"

  "I didn't believe you would," cried Alexia, much gratified, and huddlingdown again, without once seeing Polly's face, "but most of the girlsdon't care about me, Polly, and they wouldn't mind."

  "Oh yes, they do," said Polly reassuringly, "they're very fond of you,most of them are."

  "Well," said Alexia, "I'm not fond of them, so I don't really expectthem to be, Polly. But I shouldn't like 'em to go off and have thatpicnic when I couldn't go. Was anything said about it, Polly?" she askedabruptly.

  "Miss Salisbury or Miss Anstice didn't say a word," said Polly,trembling for the next question. Just then Mother Fisher looked in witha smile. "Polly, you are wanted," she said. "Grandpapa and Jasper areready to go to the railroad station. I'm going to stay with Alexia andfinish her hair just as I do for Polly."

  Alexia looked up and smiled. It was next best to having Polly, to haveMrs. Fisher. So Polly, happy to have a respite from Alexia's questionsabout the picnic, and happier still to be going to find out somethingabout the poor brakeman's family, flew off from the bed, set a kiss onAlexia's hot cheek, and another on Mamsie's, and raced off.

  "I'm coming, Jasper," she called. She could see him below in the widehall.

  "All right, don't hurry so, father isn't ready yet. Dear me! Polly, youcan get ready so quickly for things!" he said admiringly. And, in theglow of starting, he couldn't see that Polly's spirits seemed at a lowebb, and he drew a long breath as he tried to make himself believe thatwhat he had noticed at luncheon wasn't really so at all.

  And Polly, between Grandpapa and Jasper, tried to make them have such agood time that really it seemed no walk at all, and they were all quitesurprised when they found themselves there.

  "We must go up into the superintendent's room," said Mr. King. So up thelong stairs they went, the old gentleman grumbling at every step becausethere was no elevator, and at all other matters and things that were,as he declared, "at loose ends in the whole system." At last they stoodbefore the desk.

  "Have the goodness," began old Mr. King to the official, a short,pompous person who came up in the absence of the superintendent and nowturned a cold face up to them, "to give me some information regarding abrakeman who was killed last night in the accident to the train due hereat 7.45."

  "Don't know anything about him," said the official in the crispestaccents. He looked as if he cared less, and was about to slam down thewindow, when Mr. King asked, "Does anybody in this office know?"

  "Can't say." The official pulled out his watch, compared it with the bigclock on the wall, then turned away.

  "Do any of yo
u know who the man was who was killed last night?" askedthe old gentleman, putting his face quite close to the window, andspeaking in such clear, distinct tones that every clerk looked up.

  Each man searched all the other faces. No, they didn't know; except one,a little, thin, weazen-faced person over in the corner, at a high desk,copying. "I only know that his name was Jim," he said in a voice tomatch his figure.

  "Have the goodness to step this way, sir, and tell me what you do know,"said Mr. King in such a way that the little man, but with many glancesfor the pompous individual, slipped off from his high stool, to advanceto the window rubbing his hands together deprecatingly. The other clerksall laid down their pens to see the interview.

  "What was his name--this brakeman's?" demanded Mr. King.

  "I don't know, sir," said the little, thin clerk. "Jim--that was all Iknew him by. I used to see him of a morning when I was coming to theoffice, and he was waiting to take his train. He was a steady fellow,Jim was," he added, anxiously scanning the handsome face beneath thewhite hair.

  "I don't doubt that," said old Mr. King hastily. "I don't in the leastdoubt it."

  "And he wasn't given to drink, sir," the little, thin clerk criedabruptly, "although some did say it who shouldn't; for there were manyafter Jim's place. He had an easy run. And----"

  "Yes, yes; well, now what I want to know," said Mr. King interruptingthe stream, Polly and Jasper on either side having a hard time tocontrol their impatience, "is where this 'Jim,' as you call him, lived,and what was his last name."

  "That I don't know, sir," said the little, thin clerk. "I only know hehad a family, for once in a while when I had a minute to spare he'd getto talking about 'em, when we met. Jim was awful fond of 'em; that anyone could see."

  "Yes, well, now what would he say?" asked the old gentleman, trying tohurry matters along. The pompous official had his eye on the clock. Itmight go hard for the little, thin clerk in his seedy coat, if he tooktoo much time from office hours.

  "Why, he had one girl who was crazy about music," said the little clerk,"and--"

  "Oh dear me!" exclaimed Polly. Old Mr. King heard her sigh at his side,and he cried, "Well, what else?"

  "Why, I've heard Jim say more'n once he'd live on bread and water if hecould only give his daughter a chance. And there were his three boys."

  "Three boys," echoed Mr. King sharply.

  "Yes, sir. I saw 'em round the train once or twice; they were likelychaps, it seemed to me." The little, thin clerk, a bachelor with severalunmarried sisters on his hands for support, sighed deeply.

  "Well, now," cried Mr. King, thinking it quite time to bring theinterview to a close, "I'd take it quite kindly if you'd find out for meall you can about this Jim. A member of my family was on the train lastnight, who but for this noble brakeman might--might--bless me! There ismy card." The old gentleman pulled out one from his cardcase, then fellto wiping his face violently.

  "What is your name?" asked Jasper, seeing that his father couldn'tspeak.

  "Hiram Potter," said the little clerk. The pompous official drew near,and looked over his shoulder at the card. "Oh! why--Mr. King!" he cried,all the pomposity suddenly gone. "I beg your pardon; what can I do foryou, sir?"

  "Nothing whatever, sir." Mr. King waved him away. "Well, now, Mr.Potter, if you'll be so very good as to get this information for me assoon as possible and bring it up to my house, I'll be very much indebtedto you." With a bow to him, in which the official was nowise included,the old gentleman and Polly and Jasper went off down the stairs again.

  "Finkle, you're caught this time; you're in a hole," the brotherofficials sang out when the card had been displayed around the office."I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," said more than one.

  Finkle tried to brave out the dismay he felt at having offended thepowerful millionaire railroad director, but he made but a poor show ofit. Meanwhile the little, thin clerk, slipping the precious card intohis seedy coat pocket, clambered up to his high stool, his mind busywith plans to unearth all possible information concerning Jim, thebrakeman, as soon as the big clock up on the wall should let them out ofthe office.

  "Polly, my dear," old Mr. King kept saying, as they went down thestairs, and he held her hand very closely, "I think this Potter--a verygood sort of a man he seems to be, too--will find out all we want toknow about Jim. I really do, Polly; so we won't worry about it, child."

  Nevertheless, on top of all the rest that was worrying her, Polly had asorry enough time, to keep her troubles from showing on her face. Andafter dinner, when the bell pealed violently, she gave a great start andturned quite pale.

  Jasper saw it. "I don't believe it's any bad news, Polly," he hastenedto say reassuringly, and longing to comfort, though he couldn't imaginethe reason.

  "Oh, where's Polly?" She heard the girls' voices out in the hall, andran out to meet them. "Oh dear me!" she cried at sight of their facesthat confirmed her worst fears.

  "Yes, oh Polly, it's just as I said," cried Leslie Fyle, precipitatingherself against Polly. "Now, girls, keep back; I'm going to tell herfirst."

  "Well, we are all going to tell too, Les; that's what we've come for,"cried the others, crowding up.

  "Oh, what is it?" cried Polly, standing quite still, and feeling as ifshe never could hold up her head again now that the picnic was lostthrough her.

  "I shall tell, myself," declared Sarah bluntly. "I'm the one, it seems,that made all the trouble, so it really belongs to me, I should think,to be the first speaker."

  Polly folded her hands tightly together, while the babel went on,feeling that if she didn't hear the dreaded news soon, she should flyoff to Mamsie.

  "Miss Salisbury said--" She could hear little scraps of chatter.

  "I know--oh, do hurry and tell Polly."

  "Oh, and just think, Miss Salisbury----"

  "And Miss Anstice--" Then some of them looked around and into Polly'sface. "Oh my goodness, girls, see Polly Pepper!"

  With that they all rushed at her, and nobody told first, for they allshouted it out together: "Polly, Miss Salisbury has given us ourpicnic!" and "Polly, isn't it too splendid!" and "Polly Pepper, justthink how perfectly elegant! Our picnic, Polly--only think!" till thecircle in the library popped out their heads into the hall.

  "Jasper," cried Polly, deserting the bunch of "Salisbury girls," toplunge up to him with shining eyes, "we're to have our picnic; we trulyare, Jasper, and I thought I'd lost it to all the girls."

  And just then Johnson advanced down the length of the hall. "It's aperson to see you, sir," he said to old Mr. King,--"says it's quiteimportant, sir, and that you told him to come. He's sitting by the door,sir."

  "Oh, it's Mr. Potter, I think," said the old gentleman; "show him intothe library, Johnson. Polly, my child. Bless me! I don't see how youstand it with these girls chattering around you every minute. Now be offwith you," he cried gaily to the group. He was much pleased at thesuccess of his plan to find out about the brakeman, of which he feltquite sure from the appearance so promptly of the little clerk. "I havesomething quite important for Polly to attend to now; and I really wanther to myself once in a while."

  "Yes, I must go, girls," said Polly, turning a blooming countenance onthem; "so good night. We won't have the picnic, you know, till Alexia iswell," she added decidedly.

  "Oh, that's what Miss Salisbury said," cried Leslie, turning back. "Yousee, I saw her after school--went back for my history--and I was to tellyou that, Polly; only Sarah spoilt it all."

  "Never mind," said Polly brightly, "it's all right now, since we arereally to have our picnic." And then she put her hand in old Mr.King's, quite bubbling over with happiness,--Jasper, just as jubilant,since Polly was herself again, on the other side,--to go in and meet thelittle, thin clerk, scared at his surroundings, and perched on theextreme edge of a library chair.