Meg of Mystery Mountain

  CHAPTER VII. GERRY'S SURPRISE

  Grandmother Abbott had indeed been right when she prophecied thatGerald's joy, upon hearing that he could accompany Dan and his sisterJulie, would be unbounded. She told him before breakfast while they werewaiting for the others to come down. They had planned telling him later,but when his father saw how hard the small boy was trying to be brave;how the tune he was endeavoring to whistle wavered and broke, he couldstand it no longer, and, putting a hand on each of the boy's shoulders,he looked down at him as he asked: "Son, if you could have your dearestwish fulfilled, what would it be?"

  The lad hesitated, then he said earnestly: "There's two things to wishfor, Dad, and they're both awful big. I want everything to be all rightfor you, but, oh, how I do want brother Dan to get well."

  Tears sprang to the eyes of the little old lady, and placing a handaffectionately on the boy's head she asked: "Isn't there something else,dearie, something you'd be wishing just for yourself?"

  It was quite evident to the two who were watching that a struggle wasgoing on in the boy's heart. He had assured himself, time and again, thathis dad must not know how he wished that he could go with Dan. He evenfelt guilty, because he wanted to go, believing that his dad needed hishelp at home, and so he said nothing. His father, surmising that thismight be the case, asked, with one of his rare smiles: "If you knew, son,that I thought it best for you to go with Julie, to help her take care ofDan, would you be pleased?"

  Such a light as there was in the freckled face, but, even then, the boydid not let himself rejoice. "Dad," he said, "don't you need me here?"

  "No, son, your grandmother has decided to stay all summer. She has founda nice family to take care of her farm. Indeed I shall feel better,knowing that you are with Julie, if Dan should be really ill."

  For a moment the good news seemed to stun the little fellow. But when thefull realization of what it meant surged over him, he leaped into hisfather's arms and hugged him hard, then turning, he bolted for thestairway, and went up two steps at a time.

  "Hurray!" he fairly shouted. "Dan, Jane, Julie, I'm going to MysteryMountain!"

  This unexpected news was received joyfully by Julie and Dan, but Jane,who was putting the last touches to her traveling costume, merely gave ashrug, which was reflected back to her in the long mirror. "Well, thanksbe, I'm not going," she confided to that reflection. "I'd be worn to ragsby the end of the summer if I had to listen to such shrieking. I'mthankful Merry's Aunt Belle has no children. They may be all very wellfor people who like them, but I think they are superlative nuisances."

  The entire family had gathered in the dining room when Jane descended,and, after the grace had been said, the two youngest members began tochatter their excitement like little magpies. Dan, who sat next to Jane,smiled at her lovingly. "I suppose you are going to have a wonderfultime, little girl," he said. "I have heard that Newport is a merry whirlfor society people in the summer time, with dances, tallyho rides, andpicnic suppers."

  Jane's eyes glowed, and she voiced her agreement. "I've heard so, too,and I've always been just wild to have a wee taste of that gay life, andnow I can hardly believe that I am to be right in the midst of it forthree glorious months." Then, as she saw a sudden wearied expression inher brother's face, she added: "You're very tired, Dan, aren't you? Ifonly you were rested, I should try to plan some way to have you go withme. I'm wild to have you meet Merry. I do believe she is just the kind ofa girl whom you would like. You never have cared for any girl yet, haveyou? I mean not particularly well?"

  There was a tender light in the gray eyes that were so like theirfather's. Resting a hand on Jane's arm, he said in a low voice, "I careright now very particularly for a girl, and she is my dear sister-pal."

  Somehow the expression in her brother's eyes made Jane unhappy. She didwish he would not look at her--was it wistfully, yearningly or what?Rising, their father said, "The taxi is outside, children. Are you allready?"

  There was much confusion for the next few moments. The expressman hadcome for the trunks, and there were many last things that the fatherwished to say to the three who were going to his cabin on MysteryMountain.

  "Dan, my boy," Mr. Abbott held the hand of his eldest in a firm clasp andlooked deep into his eyes, "let your first thought be how best you canregain your strength. If you need me, wire and I will come at once." Thenputting his hand in his pocket, he drew out an envelope. "The passes arein here. Put them away carefully." Then he turned to Jane. "Goodbye,daughter. You will be nearer. Come home when you want to. May heavenprotect you all."

  The two younger children gave "bear hugs," over and over again, to theirdad and grandmother, and when at last all were seated in the taxi, theywaved to the two who stood on the porch until they had turned a corner.

  Dan smiled at Jane as he said: "This is indeed an exodus. That little oldhome of ours never lost so many of us all at once."

  "Gee, I bet ye the apple orchard'll wonder where me and Julie are," theboy began, but Jane interrupted fretfully. "Oh, I do wish you would bemore careful of the way you speak, Gerald. You know as well as any of usthat you should say where Julie and I are."

  The boy's exuberance for a moment was dampened, but not for long. He soonburst out with, "Say, Dan, you know that story Dad tells about a brownbear that came right up to the cabin door once. Do you suppose there'sbears in those mountains now?"

  "I'm sure of it, Gerry. Dozens of them, but they won't hurt us, unless weget them cornered."

  "Well, you can bet I'm not going to corner any of them," Gerry confided."But I'd like to have a little cub, wouldn't you, Julie, to fetch up fora pet?"

  The little girl was doubtful. "Maybe, when it grew up, it would forget itwas a pet bear, and maybe you'd get it cornered, and then what would youdo?"

  Dan laughed. "The bear would do the doing," he said. He glanced at Jane,who sat looking out of the small window at her side. He did not believethat she really saw the objects without. How he wished he knew what thegirl, who had been his pal all through their childhood, was thinking. Ashe watched her, there was again in his eyes that yearning, wistfulexpression, but Jane did not know it as she did not turn.

  The little station at Edgemere was soon reached, the trunks checked forthe big city beyond the river, and, after a short ride on the train andferry, they found themselves in the whirling, seething mass of humanitywith which the Grand Central Station seemed always to be filled.

  The train for the West was to leave at 10, and after it was gone, Janeplanned going uptown to buy a summer dress. Dad had told her to charge itto him. His credit was still good. As they stood waiting for the gates toopen, Dan took from his pocket the envelope containing the passes. Forthe first time he glanced them over, then exclaimed: "Why, how curious!There are four passes! I thought there were but three. Oh, well, they areonly slips of paper, and do not represent money." He replaced them andsmiled at Jane. The children raced to a stand to buy a bag of popcorn andDan seized that opportunity to take his sister's hand, and say mostseriously: "Dear girl, if I never come back, try to be to our Dad allthat I have so wanted to be."

  There was a startled expression in the girl's dark eyes. "Dan, what doyou mean?" Her voice sounded frightened, terrorized. "If you never comeback? Brother, why shouldn't you come back!" She clung to his arm. "Tellme, what do you mean?" But he could not reply for a time, because of asudden attack of coughing. Then he said: "I don't know, little girl. I'mafraid I'm worse off than Dad knows. I----"

  "All aboard!" The gates were swung open. Frantically, Jane cried: "Dan,quick, have my trunk checked on that other pass. I'm going with you."

  * * * * * * * *

  Mr. Abbott smiled through tears as he handed his mother the telegram hereceived that afternoon. "I felt sure our Jane had a soul," he said. "Hermother's daughter couldn't be entirely without one."

  "And now that it's awakened maybe it'll start to blossoming," the oldlady rep
lied.