"And now," said Phyllis, "Mother, you've got to lie down and rest. Yes, you have. There are no two ways about it. Rosalie and I are going to get a dinner ready that can be served as soon as Melissa gets here, whenever that is. We have chops. Mr. Brady just sent them over, lovely ones, and chopped potatoes creamed; they'll keep and warm up indefinitely, and we'll open a can of string beans. Melissa likes those. Then there are tomatoes and two stalks of celery. Rosalie will make tomato surprise for salad, and how would a cottage pudding do for dessert? That won't spoil with standing. Or no, chocolate blancmange. There is quite a little cream. I saved yesterday's and today's from both bottles. How's that for a fatted calf, Mother dear?"
"It sounds good," said the mother with a trembling smile.
"And, Mother, do you think we ought to ask those Hollisters to stay for dinner, or couldn't we afford it? Rosalie and I would let them have our chops."
"Why, yes, of course. We must ask them, even if we can't afford it, when they have been so kind to Melissa. We certainly can't repay them any other way. We must be courteous. And of course they'll be hungry after such a long ride."
"We can't make the table look very grand," said Phyllis with a thoughtful look toward Rosalie's three dandelions.
"That doesn't matter. We'll just give them what we have. I somehow feel that things are going to be brighter now, dear; perhaps the bank will open tomorrow----or something." Her voice trembled off into silence.
"Go lie down, Mother," commanded Phyllis again. "You know, you may have to take the evening train."
But Phyllis, as she went about her dinner preparations, was silently wondering how her mother could take a train even if she had to, for all her mathematical calculations had served only to show that there was not quite half enough money in the family to cover what would likely be necessary expenses of such a trip. She sighed heavily as she went out into the kitchen and began to peel potatoes.
"Why do you sigh, Phyllie? Aren't you glad now, sister, since Lissa is all right?"
"Glad? Sure! But I'm wondering what's coming next."
"You mustn't, Phyllie."
"Well, I don't know where the money's coming from to send Mother to see Steve, and I'm just sure she's got to go and soon."
"But if God can answer one prayer, can't He answer another?"
"I suppose so," said Phyllis, trying to smile. "Bob, what time is it in there by the cuckoo? I wonder if I've got plenty of time to make blancmange and get it good and cold before they come."
"Aw, gee! This old clock has stopped again!" answered Bob. "I wonder what's got inta her. Guess I musta forgot ta wind her last night. She ain't acted right since that Barkus woman monkeyed with her."
"Why, Bob, she didn't touch the clock."
"Yes, she did. Put her paw on the tailpiece and pulled real hard. I saw her do it. I bet she did somepin to her. I'm gonta get up on a chair and see. Do you havta know the time right this minute? 'Cause I'd rather get her going first, and then I can set her right when I get back from asking Brady."
"That's all right, Bob; only don't break that clock. You know how Father feels about it."
"Aw, whaddaya think I am?" said Bob as he mounted a chair and began to examine the inner workings of the fine old clock.
Five minutes later, the girls in the kitchen were startled by hearing the cuckoo cooing out vigorously, one! two! three! And then an exclamation from Bob and a clattering sound of something metal falling and rattling on the floor.
"Aw, gee! Now whaddaya think of that!" came Bob's voice, and both girls rushed to the door in consternation.
"Did you break it, Bob? I told you not to bother with it!"
"Naw, I didn't break it, Grandma!" responded Bob wrathfully. "I just put my hand up there ta see what was getting in the way of that clapper and stopping it right in the middle of a coo, and out that thing tumbled. Whaddaya think of that now? Somebody went and put a tin box inside that clock. Isn't that the limit?"
"It's a part of the works of the clock, of course," said Phyllis with a worried tone. "You ought not to touch a clock. Nobody but a clockmaker knows how to fix a clock."
"Aw, cut it! You're only a girl if you are older'n I am. I didn't touch the old clock!" said Bob as worried as herself, getting down with a thump from the chair and bending over the thing on the floor. "It isn't a piece of the works, I tell ya; it's a box. See! There's an advertisement on the cover. A little thin box. Quinine pills it says, plain as day. They don't use quinine pillboxes ta make the works of a clock, do they? I ask ya!"
The girls came and stood gazing curiously while Bob picked up the box, but as he lifted it the cover came off with a ring and went spinning across the floor, and out of the box fell what looked like a wad of colored paper, green and yellow and white.
"Why, it's money, Phyllis, look!" said Rosalie, picking up the little packet. "Where do you suppose it came from?"
Phyllis took it in wonder and unfolded it, her eyes growing wide and startled.
Two one-hundred-dollar bills and a fifty-dollar bill. She held it in her hand and stared at it. The two children were speechless with wonder. Then Bob rallied.
"Aw, I bet Brady put that in there. I bet he put that money in that box and hid it in that clock for us. I bet he knew we hadn't much, and he fixed it so the clock would stop and so it would fall out if we tried ta fix it. I bet that's it. I'm goin' down ta the shop and tell him he can't put that over on us."
"I think God sent it, if you ask me," said Rosalie with conviction.
"Wait!" said Phyllis sharply. "Here's a paper with writing, a note perhaps."
She smoothed out the bit of folded paper and read:
First payment of two hundred and fifty dollars made by Clarence Stuart to me, today, on the money (one thousand dollars) loaned by me to him, with the old cuckoo clock for security, the money to be used by him toward his university course abroad. It is understood between us that the clock, an heirloom in his family, is to be returned to him (or his heirs) when the final payment is made.
John F. Challenger
The date was the day that Mr. Challenger had been taken to the hospital, several months before.
The children stood and looked at one another and then at the clock.
"Why do ya s'pose Dad put the money in there instead of in the bank?" asked Bob practically.
"Because he knew if it was in the bank, he would be likely to spend it," said Phyllis. "I think he wanted to get it all together at once for some reason. Perhaps he thought that it was a good way to save it."
"H'm!" said the boy contemptuously. "I don't think much of that for a hiding place. It doesn't seem like Dad."
"Perhaps he didn't want us to know about it," said Phyllis. "You know how he always was about the confidence of his students. Perhaps the boy didn't want it known that he was borrowing money or something, and you know Father had been sick for a week before he went to the hospital. He couldn't take it to the bank. If he had asked Mother to, she naturally would have asked where the money came from, wouldn't she? I expect he just thought he would be back in a few days and he would stick it up in there and it would be all safe. That explains why he was so insistent that we keep the clock. The boy wants it back again."
"But s'pose we'd a sold it that day when Barkus kicked up such a row?"
"Mother wouldn't sell it, you know, without his permission, and when she asked him about it, he said we mustn't part with it on any account. You see, he felt it wasn't really his. It belonged to this Clarence Stuart."
"Gee!" said Bob. "Well, the money's his all right anyway. I don't expect he'd want us not ta use it. Whyn't ya tell Mother?"
They suddenly all sprang together toward the stairs and hurried up.
"Hush!" said Phyllis. "She may be asleep."
But Mary Challenger was not sleeping. She was kneeling by her bed, and still kneeling, she lifted a startled face and looked at her children.
"See! Mother! We've found the money for your trip!" said Rosalie with shining eyes. "It was in the
cuckoo clock. Isn't it wonderful?"
And then they gathered around her on the edge of the bed while she sat with them and read the paper and handled with wonder the clean new money.
"I feel as if it came straight down from heaven!" said the mother, a new look in her delicate face.
"And now, I guess Melissa Challenger won't say those things she did anymore about not believing in God," said Rosalie triumphantly, "not after we've told her all that has happened. My! I wish she'd come!"
It was just at that moment that the taxi drew up before the door. Melissa had started to explain that this house was only loaned to them for a few weeks till they could find something they could afford, but she hadn't got two words out before Bob threw wide the door and yelled with all his might and main:
"Here they come! It's a taxi. They musta had a flat tire! Ur a smashup! Anyway, here they are!"
Then Rosalie came flying out with her curls blowing and her cheeks glowing, and Mary Challenger came swiftly down from her bedroom and folded her eldest daughter in her arms. There were tears on her cheeks when finally she released her daughter to the rest of the family.
It was not until then that any of them saw the tall young man who stood smiling in the doorway surrounded by bags.
It was Melissa who recovered first and introduced him.
"This is Mr. Jenifer, Mother. He's been wonderful to me. I want you to thank him. I don't know when I should have got home if it hadn't been for him. I certainly wouldn't have been here yet."
Then the mother turned her attention to the young man, and taking his hand, she thanked him as only a mother who has been through a night of agony and anxiety can thank her daughter's rescuer.
"Jenifer!" said Bob. "But I thought his name was Hollister!"
"No, it's not, thank goodness," said Melissa. "Those Hollisters were unspeakable, Mother. They got drunk and tried to take me into a roadhouse for dinner and dancing. But I got away from them and found my way back to a railroad station in a village. It's a long story, and it can wait. We are awfully hungry. Have you got anything in the house to eat? And can't Mr. Jenifer have some, too? He lives away uptown, and it will take him so long to get there!"
"Oh, no, that's all right. I couldn't think of intruding now," said Jenifer, smiling. "I'll just run in some other time if you'll let me, some evening perhaps, and see if you are any the worse for your trip."
"You are staying now, please," said Mary Challenger, taking his two hands in both of hers. "I cannot let you go this way."
"All right," said Ian Jenifer, "if you say so, I'll stay now. It's really what I want to do, if you just won't take any trouble for me."
"We won't," said Phyllis, smiling and waving the knife with which she had been paring the cold potatoes. "We're almost ready to serve dinner. I've only the chops to broil!"
"And there are two more chops than you ordered, sister," added Rosalie in a stage whisper. "You can give Mr. Jenifer two, and none of us will have to go without, either."
Everybody heard it of course, and everybody broke down and laughed hilariously, to the utter confusion of sweet Rosalie, who rallied, however, and laughed with them.
Jenifer insisted on being allowed to broil the chops. He said he knew how and proved that he did by doing them to a lovely brown, and presently they were all seated around the table eating a delicious meal and all talking at once. And while they were in the midst of it, Brady appeared at the door, beamed upon them, was introduced to Jenifer, whispered in Melissa's ear: "That's a regular guy you've brought home this time!" and then vanished.
Just the joy of having Melissa safe and home again was enough for the first few minutes. Then suddenly the mother's face grew sober, and she asked: "But you haven't told me about Stephen. Just how is he, dear? Should I go to him tonight? You needn't be afraid to tell me the truth."
Melissa's face grew troubled at once.
"Oh, Mother, I'm not sure, but I think so!" And then she told as well as she could just how he had seemed to her and just what the doctors and nurses had said to her.
"I think I should go at once," said the mother, rising. "If you will excuse me now, I'll get my things ready. We have been looking up the trains, and there is one at six o'clock."
"Mrs. Challenger," said Jenifer, rising, "wouldn't you like to have me get a later bulletin on your son's case before you leave so that you will not have to be wondering and anxious all the way lest conditions have changed since your daughter left?"
"Oh, that would be very kind," said Mary Challenger, "but I don't like to trouble you further. Perhaps Phyllis could do it."
"I would like to do it for you," said the young man earnestly.
"But, Mother, he's already missed a very important appointment to bring me home," said Melissa. "I don't think we ought to hinder him any longer."
"It doesn't matter," said Jenifer. "It really doesn't. I shall call up the man and explain, and I can just as well see him this evening. Please let me go."
"I'll go with ya and show ya the way," offered Bob importantly.
"Yes, do," said Jenifer cordially. "Then we can get acquainted, and you'll be able to set me right if there's any question I don't know about."
They went off together, Bob looking up at the young man adoringly and in his heart remembering what his friend Brady's opinion had been. Yes, he surely was a "regular guy," Bob thought.
The rest of the family rushed upstairs to help Mother get ready for her journey, Melissa to tell more in detail some of the things that had happened to her on the way. But they had not time for connected conversation. One was hunting handkerchiefs, another gloves, another was polishing her shoes, Phyllis was repacking the bag to get everything in, and they were all interrupting one another with eager questions.
It was in the midst of this that there came a knock on the front door.
"You run down, Rosalie dear," said Phyllis, laying her mother's best dress in smoothly. "It's probably just a peddler."
Rosalie came back in a minute.
"It's a man to see Mother," she announced. "He's a nice-looking man. He has a shiny car out in the front."
"Well, I can't possibly spare the time to see anybody. It's likely that refrigerator man that came yesterday and Phyllis told him I was out. Run and tell him, dear, that your mother is trying to catch a train and she doesn't want anything anyway."
"I did," said Rosalie, "and he said he wouldn't keep you but a minute, but it was very important. I think he said a name that was on that letter you got this morning."
"Oh, well, tell him, dear, that Mother couldn't possibly buy any book at this time, she hasn't got the money."
Rosalie went downstairs and accosted the man, who still stood on the front porch waiting. He was a nice-looking man as Rosalie had said, and she hated to disappoint him about the book.
"Mother is sorry," she said sweetly, "but she just can't take the time, or she will miss her train. And she says to tell you she couldn't possibly afford to buy a book now anyway."
The man smiled.
"Oh," he said, "you're mistaken. I'm not a book agent. You tell your mother I'm from the firm of lawyers she visited the other day. Tell her it's about her inheritance. And it's very important that I see her at once. There is a paper she should sign today."
Rosalie eyed him uncertainly, but she went back upstairs. "It isn't the book, Mother. He says he wants to see you about your inheritance."
"Inheritance?" laughed Mary Challenger. "Whatever does the man mean? I suppose it's some more of those silly questions that he asked me the other day. Tell him, dear, that there never was any inheritance in the Challenger family that I ever heard of and I have told him all I know. He'll have to get the rest of his facts somewhere else."
Rosalie traveled down again.
"Mother says there never was any inheritance that she knows of. She says she can't tell you any more facts for your book."
"Book? What book? I really don't know what you mean, child."
"Why, a
ren't you the man that is writing a book about our family tree?"
"Not at all!" said the man. "My dear, there is some mistake. I am quite sure your mother does not understand, or she would at least take time to sign her name to this document, which is all that she has to do. I have the keys to the property here--"
Rosalie, with a bewildered look, went upstairs again.
"He says you don't understand, Mother. He says you would come down if you understood. It's not about a family tree nor a book nor anything. It's an inheritance and property."
"Phyllis, for pity's sake, do go down and see what the man means. He has probably got the wrong house."
Phyllis went down and said coolly: "Who did you want to see?"
"Mrs. Mary Challenger," said the man. "Isn't this where she lives? I'm quite sure this is the number she gave me."
"Yes, she lives here," said Phyllis, "but she is really in too much of a hurry to speak with you. My brother has been hurt in an accident at college, and she has to take the six o'clock train. Can't you give me the message?"
"You are Miss Challenger?"
"I am Phyllis Challenger. Yes."
"Ah!" said the man. "Phyllis! I believe that is the name mentioned in our client's letter, Miss Challenger. Your mother has been left some property by a distant relative. It is not a large estate of course, but still it is a fairly comfortable one. We had first to establish your mother's identity before handing it over to her, but everything is quite all right now, and we are anxious to get the matter settled up and out of our hands. I have brought the keys to the property with me and the necessary papers to be signed, together with all data about the investments. I wish you could persuade your mother to at least sign this paper. Mr. Wright feels that it ought to be attended to at once. The rest of the business could await your mother's return if necessary, or perhaps she could delegate you to attend to it."
In a daze of wonder, Phyllis invited the man in and went up to report.
"Mother, the most amazing thing! I think the man must be out of his mind. He says you've been left property. I guess you'll have to go down and see him for a minute. He says if you'll just sign the paper, he can hand over the keys. He didn't say what to. It may be a warehouse or a chicken coop, but for sweet pity's sake, if we own some property let's find out what it is. This seems to be a day of surprises."