CHAPTER XV

  The Reckoning

  The descending steam-roller slowed down and finally came to astandstill within a few feet of the Professor, too non-plussed even tosnort or pant, while that imperturbable being stood hat in hand in thesharp January air, and smiled upon it. There was something in thesmile that caused the steam-roller to reconsider its plan of action,rapidly formed while descending the hill, for great had been theconsternation throughout the dwelling which housed it, and the causeof all that consternation was now within reach of justice.

  "Mammy Blairsdale?" repeated the Professor suavely.

  "Mammy Blairsdale," echoed that worthy being, although the words werenot quite so blandly spoken.

  "I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mammy. I have taken the libertyof escorting this young lady back home. She is very entertaining, andextremely practical, as well as enterprising. I am sure you will findher a successful cooperator. She has done a most flourishing businessthis morning."

  "B'isness! B'isness! For de Lawd's sake wha' dat chile been at now,an' we all cl'ar 'stracted 'bout her? Whar yo' bin at? Tell me disminute. An' yo' ma, and Miss Constance and me jist plumb crazy 'boutyou and dat hawse."

  The Professor attempted to put in a word of explanation, but a wave ofMammy's hand effectually silenced him and motioned him aside, as shestepped closer to the phaeton. Baltie had instantly recognized hervoice and as she drew nearer, nickered.

  "Yas, Baltie hawse, what dat chile been doin' wid yo'?" she saidsoftly as she laid her hand upon the old horse's neck. But the moreresolute tone was resumed as she turned again to the phaeton, anddemanded: "I wanter know wha' yo's been. You hear me? We's done chasedde hull town ober fer yo' an' dat hawse, an' yo' ma done teken detrolley fer Souf Riveraige, kase someone done say dey seed yo' a gwineoff dat-a-way. Now whar in de name o' man _is_ yo' been ter?"

  "I've been out to the Irving School selling your old _candy_, and yourcousins-in-the-Lord, over in South Riveredge, can _wait_ a while forsome. You and Connie thought you could fool me with your old talk butyou couldn't; I found out _all_ about it. _She_ makes it and _you_sell it, and now _I've_ sold it--yes every single package--and there'syour money; I don't want it, but I've proved that I _can_ help mother,so there now!" and, figuratively speaking, Jean hurled at Mammy's feetthe gauntlet, in the shape of her handkerchief, in which she hadcarefully tied the proceeds of her morning's sale, a no mean sum, bythe way. Then, bounding out of the old phaeton, tore up the hill likea small whirlwind, leaving Mammy and the Professor to stare after heropen-mouthed. The latter was the first to recover his speech.

  "Well, really! Quite vehement! Good deal of force in a small body."

  "Fo'ce! Well yo' ain' know dat chile ten years lak _I_ is. She cl'arbreak loose some times, an' dis hyre's one ob 'em. But I 'spicioneddat she's done teken dat box o' candy. Minit my back turned out shefly wid it. An' sell hit, too? What _yo'_ know 'bout it, sar? Is yo'see her?"

  "I certainly did, and I haven't seen such a sight in some time. She'sa good bit of a metaphysician into the bargain," and in a few wordsProfessor Forbes told of the morning's business venture, and thelively experiences of the young merchant, Mammy listening attentively,only now and again uttering an expressive "Um-m! Uh-h!" When he hadfinished she looked at him sharply and said:

  "You know what dat chile' oughter be named? Wal, suh,Scape-many-dangers would fit her pine blank. De Lawd on'y knows whatshe gwine tu'n out, but hits boun' ter be one ting or turrer; shegwine be de banginest one ob de hull lot, or she gwine be jist nothin'but a little debbil. Now, suh, who is _yo'_?"

  The concluding question was sprung upon the Professor so suddenly thathe nearly jumped. He looked at the old woman a moment, the suggestionof a twinkle in the eyes behind the big glasses, then answeredsoberly:

  "I might be termed a knight errant I presume; I've been guarding ayoung lady from the perils of the highway."

  "Night errand? 'Tain't no night errand as _I_ kin see. Can't be muchbroader day dan tis dis minute," retorted Mammy, looking up at theblazing luminary directly over her head by way of proving herassertion. "If you's on a errand dat's yo' b'isness; 'taint mine. ButI'd lak ter know yo' name suh, so's I kin tell Miss Jinny."

  "Is Miss Jinny the older sister who manufactures that deliciouscandy?" asked the Professor, as he drew his card case from his pocketand handed Mammy his card.

  "No, suh, she's _my_ Miss Jinny: Miss Jinny Blairsdale; I meanCarruth. My mistis. Dat chile's mother. Thank yo', suh. I'll han' herdis cyard. Is she know yo', suh?"

  "No, I haven't the pleasure of Mrs. Carruth's acquaintance though Ihope to before long. (Mammy made a slight sound through herhalf-closed lips.) My grandmother was a Blairsdale."

  "Open sesame" was a trifling talisman compared with the name ofBlairsdale.

  "Wha', wha', wha', yo say, suh?" demanded Mammy, stammering in herexcitement. "Yo's a Blairsdale?"

  "No, I am Homer Forbes. My mother's mother was a Blairsdale. I cannotclaim the honor."

  "Yo' kin claim de _blood_ dough, an' dat's all yo' hatter claim. Yo'don' need ter claim nuttin' else ef yo' got some ob _dat_. But Imustn't stan' here talkin' no longer. Yo' kin come an' see my MissJinny ef yo' wantter. If yo's kin ob de Blairsdales' she'll bepintedly glad fer ter know yo'," ended Mammy, courtesying to thisbranch of the blood royal, and turning to lead Baltie up the hill.

  "Thank you. I think I'll accept the invitation before very long. I'dlike to know Miss Jean a little better. Good-day Mammy _Blairsdale_."

  "Good-day, suh! Good-day," answered Mammy, smiling benignly upon thefavored being.

  As she drew near the house a perplexed expression overspread her oldface. She still held the handkerchief with its weight of change;earnest of the morning's good intentions. Yet what a morning it hadbeen for her and the others!

  "I clar ter goodness dat chile lak ter drive us all 'stracted. Fustshe scare us nigh 'bout ter death, an' we ready fer ter frail her outfer her doin's. Den she come pa'radin' home wid a bagful ob cash kaseshe tryin' fer ter help we-all. _Den_ what yo' gwine 'do wid her?Smack her kase she done plague yo', or praise her kase she doin' herbes' fer ter mek t'ings go a little mite easier fer her ma?" endedMammy, bringing her tongue against her teeth in a sound of irritation.

  Meanwhile the cause of all the commotion had gone tearing up the hilland into the house where she ran pell-mell into Eleanor who had justcome home, and who knew nothing of the excitement of the past fewhours. Constance had gone over to Amy Fletcher's to inquire for therunaway. Jean was on the border land between tears and anger, andEleanor was greeted with:

  "Now I suppose _you_ are going to lecture me too, tell me I'd nobusiness to go off. Well you just needn't do any such a thing, and Idon't care if I _did_ scare you. It was all your own fault 'cause youwouldn't let me into your old secret, and I'm _glad_ I scared you. YesI am!" the words ended in a storm of sobs.

  For a moment Eleanor stood dumfounded. Then realizing that somethingmore lay behind the volley of words than she understood, she said:

  "Come up to my room with me, Jean. I don't know what you are talkingabout. If anything is wrong tell me about it, but don't bother mother.The little Mumsey has a lot to bother her as it is."

  Jean instantly stopped crying and looked at this older sister whosometimes seemed very old indeed to her.

  "_You_ don't know what all the fuss is about, and why Mammy is waitingto give me Hail Columbia?" she asked incredulously.

  "I have just this moment come in. I have been out at Aunt Eleanor'sall the morning, as you know quite well if you will stop to think,"answered Eleanor calmly.

  "Then come up-stairs quick before Mammy gets in; I see her coming inthe gate now. I did something that made her as mad as hops and scaredmother. Come I'll tell you all about it," and Jean flew up the stairsahead of Eleanor. Rushing into her sister's room she waited only forEleanor to pass the threshold before slamming the door together andturning the key.

  Eleanor dropped her things upon the bed and sitting down upon
a lowchair, said:

  "Come here, Jean." Jean threw herself upon her sister's lap, andclasping her arms about her, nestled her head upon her shoulder.Eleanor held her a moment without speaking, feeling that it would bewiser to let her excitement subside a little. Then she said: "Now tellme the whole story, Jean."

  Jean told it from beginning to end, and ended by demanding:

  "Don't you really, truly, know anything about the candy Constance ismaking to sell?"

  "I know that she is making candy, and that she contrives somehow tosell a good deal of it, but she and Mammy have kept the secret as to_how_ it is sold. They did not tell me, and I wouldn't ask," saidEleanor looking straight into Jean's eyes.

  "Oh!" said Jean.

  "Mammy has rather high ideas of what we ought or ought not to do, youknow, Jean," continued Eleanor, "and she was horrified at the idea ofConstance making candy for money. And yet, Jean, both Constance and I_must_ do something to help mother. You say we keep you out of oursecrets. We don't keep you _out_ of them, but we see no reason _why_you should be made to bear them. Constance and I are older, and it isright that we should share some of the burden which mother must bear,but you are only a little girl and ought to be quite care-free."

  Jean's head dropped a trifle lower.

  "But since you have discovered so much, let _me_ tell you a secretwhich only mother and I know, and then you will understand why she isso troubled now-a-days. Even Connie knows nothing of it. Can I trustyou?"

  "I'd _die_ before I'd tell," was the vehement protest.

  "Very well then, listen: You know our house was insured for a gooddeal of money--fifteen thousand dollars. Well, mother felt quite safeand comfortable when she found that Mammy had paid the premium justbefore the house burned down, and we all thought we would soon havethe amount settled up by the company and that the interest would be abig help--"

  "What is the interest?" demanded Jean.

  "I can't stop to explain it all now, but when people put money in asavings bank a certain sum is paid to them each year. The bank paysthe people the smaller sum each year because it--the bank, I mean--hasthe use of the larger amount for the time being. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, it's just as if I gave you my five dollars to use and you gaveme ten cents each week for lending you the five dollars till I wantedit, isn't it?"

  "Yes, exactly. Well mother thought she would have about six hundreddollars each year, and everything seemed all right, and so we came tolive here because it was less expensive. But, oh, Jean, my miserableexperiments! My dreadful chemicals! When the insurance company beganto look into the cause of the fire and learned that I had gasoline,and those powerful acids in my room, and the box of excelsior in whichthey had been sent out from the city was in the room where the firestarted, they--they would not settle the insurance, and _all_ the moneywe had paid out was lost, and we could hardly collect anything. And itwas _all_ my fault. _All_ my fault. But I did not know it! I did notguess the harm I was doing. I only thought of what I could learn frommy experiments. And _see_ what mischief I have done," and poorEleanor's story ended in a burst of sobs, as she buried her headagainst the little sister whom she had just been comforting.

  Jean was speechless for a moment. Then all her sympathies were alert,and springing from Eleanor's lap she flung her arms about her crying:

  "Don't cry, Nornie; don't cry! You didn't _mean_ to. You didn't know.You were trying to be good and learn a lot. You didn't know aboutthose hateful old companies."

  "But I _ought_ to have known! I ought to have understood," sobbedEleanor.

  "How _could_ you? But don't you cry. I'm glad now I _did_ run awaywith the box, 'cause I've found a way to make some money every singleSaturday and I'm going to _do it_, Mammy or no Mammy. Baltie is justas much my horse as hers, and if he can't help us work I'd like toknow why. Now don't you cry any more, 'cause it isn't your fault, andI'm going right straight down stairs to talk with mother, and tell herI'm sorry I frightened her but _I'm not_ sorry I went," and endingwith a tempestuous hug and an echoing kiss upon her sister's cheek,little Miss Determination whisked out of the room.