CHAPTER XII. A YOUNG MAN ENTERS
It was early Sunday morning. "Since we are to have your little friend,Nell Wiggin, to dinner today," Gloria remarked as the three sat atbreakfast, "suppose we also invite Miss Selenski. It will be a nicechange for her."
"Good!" Bobs agreed. "That's a splendid suggestion. Now what is theprogram for the day?"
"Lena May has consented to tell Bible stories to the very little childreneach Sunday morning at the Settlement House," Gloria said, "and I haveasked a group of the older girls who are in one of my clubs to come overhere this afternoon for tea and a quiet hour around the fireplace. Ithought it would be a pleasant change for them, and I want you girls tobecome acquainted with them so when I mention their names you will beable to picture them. They really are such bright, attractive girls! TheSettlement House is giving them the only chance that life has to offerthem." Then, smiling lovingly at the youngest, Gloria concluded: "LenaMay has consented to pour, and you, Bobs, I shall expect to provide muchof the entertainment."
Roberta laughed. "Me?" she asked. "What am I to do?"
"O, just be natural." Gloria rose and began to clear the table as sheadded: "Now, Bobs, since you have to go after your friend, Miss Wiggin,Lena May and I will prepare the dinner. We have it planned, but we'regoing to surprise you with our menu."
It was nine o'clock when Roberta left the Pensinger mansion. It was thefirst Sunday that the girls had spent on the East Side, and what adifferent sight met the eyes of Bobs when she started down the nearlydeserted street, on one side of which were the wide docks.
Derricks were silent and the men who lived on the barges were dressed inwhatever holiday attire they possessed. They were seated, some ongunwales, others on rolls of tarred rope, smoking and talking, and savefor an occasional steamer loaded with folk from the city who were sailingaway for a day's outing, peace reigned on the waterfront, for even thenoise of the factory was stilled.
Turning the corner at Seventy-eighth Street, Roberta was surprised tofind that the boys' playground was nearly deserted. She had supposed thatat this hour it would be thronged. Just as she was puzzling about it, alad with whom she had a speaking acquaintance emerged from a doorway andshe hailed him:
"You're all dressed up, Antovich, aren't you? Just like a regular littlegentleman. Are you going to Sunday school?"
"Oh, no, ma'am; that is, I donno as 'tis. Mr. Hardinian doesn't go tocall it that. He calls it a boys' club by Treasure Seekers. There's aclubhouse over to Seventy-fifth Street. I say, Miss Bobs, I wish for youto come and see it. I sure wish for you to."
Roberta assured the eager lad that she might look in a little later, thenbidding him good-bye, she turned in to the model tenement house to askMiss Selenski to a one o'clock dinner.
"Oh, how lovely and sunny and sweet smelling your little home is," Bobssaid three minutes later when she had been admitted to the smallapartment, the front windows of which overlooked the glistening blueriver.
"I like it," was the bright reply of the slender dark-eyed girl who livedthere.
Bobs continued: "How I wish the rich folk who built this would influenceothers to do the same. Take that rookery across the street, for instance.It looks as though a clap of thunder would crash it to the ground, and itsurely is a fire trap."
"It is indeed that," Miss Selenski said, "and though I have reported ittime and again, the very rich man who owns it finds it such excellentincome property that he manages to evade an injunction to have the placetorn down. Some day we'll have a terrible tragedy of some kind overthere, and then perhaps--" she paused and sighed. "But, since we can'thelp, let's talk of pleasanter things."
Bobs then informed Miss Selenski that she had come to invite her todinner that day, and the little agent of the model apartments indeed waspleased, and replied: "Some time soon I shall invite you girls over hereand give you just Hungarian dishes." Then Bobs departed, and as shewalked down Fourth Avenue she glanced with rather an amused expression upat the windows of the Detective Agency of which, for so brief a time, shehad been an employee. She wondered what that good-looking young man,James Jewett, had thought of her, for, surely, her recent employer wouldhave at once telephoned that as a detective she had been "no good." Thenshe decided that she probably never would learn, as she most certainlywould not again return to the agency. But little do we know what fateholds in store for us.
Nell Wiggin was ready and waiting, and she looked very sweet indeed, withher corn yellow hair fluffed beneath her neat blue hat, her eyes eager,her cheeks, usually pale, flushed with this unusual excitement. Her suitwas neat and trim, though made of cheap material.
"You're right on time to the very minute, aren't you, Miss Dolittle?" shesaid happily, as she opened the door to admit her new friend.
"I sure am," was the bright reply. "I'm the original on the dot man, oryoung lady, I should say." But while Bobs was speaking there wasmisgivings in her heart. She had forgotten to ask Gloria what she oughtto do about her name. Should they all be Dolittles or Vandergrifts? Shedecided to take Nell into her confidence and tell her the story of theassumed name.
The listener did not seem at all surprised. "Lots of girls who go out towork change their names," she said. "It's just as honest as writingstories under a different name, I should think."
"That's so," Roberta agreed, much relieved. "A nom-de-plume isn't muchdifferent."
"And so you are a detective?" Nell looked at her friend with a littlemore awe, perhaps.
"Heavens no! Not now!" Bobs was quick to protest. "I merely tried it, andfailed."
"Well, as it turned out, a detective wasn't needed on that particularcase." Nell was giving Bob the very information she was eager to receive,but for which she did not wish to ask. "The next day the stolen book cameback by mail." Roberta knew that she ought to register astonishment, butinstead, she laughed. "What did Mr. Queerwitz say?" she inquired.
"Oh, they all put it down to conscience. That does happen, you know. Youread about conscience money being returned every now and then in thenewspapers, but the strangest part was, that that very afternoon Mr. VanLoon came in and said that he had been able to obtain the first volumeand wished to purchase the second. Mr. Queerwitz was out at the time, andso Miss Peerwinkle sold it to him for five hundred dollars."
Bobs wanted to laugh again. It amused her to think that she had driventhe better bargain, but she thought it unwise to appear too interested inthe transaction, and so she changed the subject, and together they walkedup Third Avenue.
"How different it all is on Sunday," Nell Wiggin smiled happily at hernew friend. She had indeed spoken truly. The vendors' carts wereconspicuous by their absence and the stores, if they were open, seemed tobe more for the social gathering of foreign folk dressed in their gaybest, than for active business. Even the elevated trains thunderedoverhead with much longer intervals in between, and sometimes, for aslong as fifteen minutes, the peace of Sunday seemed to pervade thatunlovely East Side.
Bobs, noting a Seventy-fifth Street sign, stopped and gazed down towardthe river, and sure enough she saw a long, low building labeled Boys'Club House.
"Let's go through this way to Second," Bobs suggested. In front of theclubhouse there was a group of boys with faces so clean that they shone,and one of these, leaving the others, raced up to the girls, and takinghis friend by the hand, he said: "Oh, Miss Bobs, you did for to come,didn't you? Please stop in by the clubhouse. It will to please Mr.Hardinian."
Roberta's smile seemed to convey consent, and she found herself beingrapidly led toward a wide-open door. Nell willingly followed. The soundof band practice came from within, but, when the lad appeared with thesmiling guest, a young man, who had been playing upon a flute, arose andat once advanced toward them. What dark, beautiful eyes he had! "Why,"Roberta exclaimed in surprise. "We saw Mr. Hardinian the very first daywe came in this neighborhood to live. He was helping a poor sick womanwho had fallen, and--" But she could say no more, for
the small boy waseagerly telling the clubmaster that this was his "lady friend" and thather name was Miss Bobs. The young man smiled and said that he was alwaysglad to have visitors. "What a musical voice!" was Bobs' thought.
Then, turning to the girl who had remained by the open door, she held outa hand. "This is my friend, Nell Wiggin. I am sure that we will both beinterested in knowing of your work, Mr. Hardinian, if you have time tospare."
"Indeed I have, always, for those who are interested." Then the young mantold them of his many clubs for boys.
Roberta looked about with interest. "Why are there so many wide shelvesall around the walls, Mr. Hardinian?" she asked at last.
The young man smiled. "If you will come some night at ten o'clock youwill find a little street urchin, some homeless little fellow, tucked upin blankets asleep on each of those shelves, as you call their bunks.Maybe you do not know, but even in the bitterest winter weather manysmall boys sleep out in the streets or creep into doorways and huddletogether to keep warm. That is, they used to before I came. Now they areall welcome in here."
Roberta wished she might ask this wonderful young man where he came from,but that would not do on so slight an acquaintance, and so thanking himand bidding him good morning, with Nell and Antovich, she again startedfor home.
Though Roberta little dreamed it, the wonderful young man had come intothe drama of their lives, and was to play a very important part.